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aminiatureworld · 3 years

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Affection

Characters: Albedo, Beidou, Keqing, Zhongli, gn!reader

Word Count: 4,705

Warnings: Swearing

Premise: Sometime we know something is impossible from the start. But still we walk towards it, even if we know it will hurt us. It’s only flirting, only a smile or a hug or some food. Even if nothing comes of it, there is nothing to regret. Even if it hurts.

In which the reader gives affection, expecting nothing in return.

Author’s Note: More “new” characters! I’ve been neglecting Keqing and Beidou, they deserve some love. I hope as always their characterizations live up to expectations! This was very fun to write, so I hope you enjoy it!

I couldn’t tell whether to make this melancholy or fluffy, so I guess I half-and-half-ed it. Best of both worlds, right? Although the tone feels definitely lighter.

Albedo

Your friends never could figure out why you were flirting with Albedo.

“That alchemist has nothing on his mind but work,” one of them once told you, “he’ll never reciprocate your feelings you know.”

“I know.” You’d replied, smiling the sort of smile people put on when they’re trying to show they’re not annoyed. “I know he doesn’t like me in that way, you don’t have to tell me.”

“Then why are you doing it?”

“Because I want to.” You’d shrugged, shifting the conversation to some other topic. In all honesty, it wasn’t as if your friend was lying. But neither were you, not really. There wasn’t any good explanation for why you were flirting with Albedo after all. You knew that he’d never take it seriously, knew you weren’t good enough for it anyways. Maybe that’s why you flirted with him. Maybe it was better to make the slightest fool of yourself than drive yourself mad thinking about something that could never be.

So you continued on your merry, if slightly self-destructive way. Every time you saw Albedo, which was quite a bit considering the fact you were often posted around Dragonspine and spent a lot of your free time in the square right outside his office, you ran his way, asking him what he was doing, or telling him about your own day. You’d developed this habit of leaning in a bit whenever he spoke to you, and the slight pause he gave as his smile grew wider whenever you did made your heart soar.

Not that you ever started thinking there was ever a chance. I mean, come on. Albedo was Albedo and you were you. There was a great deal of distance between the two of you, as if you were standing on opposite sides of a bridge which was liable to fall at any moment. You could shout across at each other, but never did you attempt to walk over to him, knowing it’d surely result in disaster.

Still, why did you flirt with Albedo? The question sort of haunted you at times. You enjoyed his company, you’d even told him you enjoyed his company. He’d smiled his sedate smile, pausing for a moment to look away from the painting he was working on. “I enjoy your company too.” He’d said, before turning back to his work. It was a quiet, calm, even sort of response, just the sort you’d expected. And yet you kept going, and though you made no attempt to push the boundaries or go any farther, you still wondered at times what the point of it was.

Perhaps following that line of thought was a bit dangerous. You found the more you asked yourself what you expected out of your closeness with Albedo, the more absent you seemed to be. It wasn’t as if you were trying to avoid him or anything, no quite the contrary. It was only that you tended to want to be alone when you were thinking about something like this. Reaching out was hard, especially to the person who you were thinking about.

“Are you alright?” You glanced up from the lunch you were pondering over to see Albedo leaning over you. Feeling your cheeks redden you jumped slightly.

“Albedo! Oh I’m so sorry, I wasn’t paying any attention to my surroundings! Sit down!” You gestured vaguely to the spot on the bench next to you. Albedo smiled politely, sitting down as directed. He seemed to sober however once he was sitting, scanning your face for something, though you weren’t sure what that something was.

“You seem… absent recently, I was wondering if something was the matter.”

“Oh, I’m perfectly fine!” You shook your hands out in front of you. “I guess I’ve just been sort of busy recently, or maybe a little tired I guess. You know that the festival is coming up, right? Well Acting Grand Master Jean is really running us ragged! But I promise I’ll be back to normal soon!” You laughed awkwardly; it wasn’t as if you weren’t telling the truth per se, just… not the whole truth. But you’d rather not put all your troubles on Albedo, not when he was reaching out to see if you were okay. Smiling once more you attempted to switch topics. “How’s your research? Have you found something new while I’ve been gone?”

“Yes, I’ve begun to study the reaction between macrophage and eukaryotic cells in contrast with prokaryotic cells, and how adding elemental effects to reactions either speeds up or slows down the reaction. But I’m glad to hear you’re alright,” Albedo seemed to relax a bit, leaning backwards slightly on the bench, “everything has been much quieter with you gone. It’s unnatural, I can’t focus as well. I keep finding myself distracted by little things. I look forward to participating in our conversations once more.”

“Well I’ll be there soon!” You promised, heart fluttering slightly. Did he really mean that? I mean sure, it didn’t mean anything more than what was on the tin. Your situation hadn’t changed that much. Still, it meant something to you that Albedo wasn’t just tolerating your presence, that he was actually somewhat involved in your friendship. “I promise I’ll have some very interesting topics of conversation when I come back.”

“Good.” Albedo nodded once more before smiling slightly sheepishly. “My workspace is currently going through a cleaning and the lab isn’t supposed to let any foreign substances in in; would you mind terribly if I ate with you?”

“Not at all!” You responded. “I love spending my free time with you. What have you brought?”

Why did you flirt with Albedo? Why did you seek out his presence despite you and everyone around you knowing full well that it was never going to come to anything? What did you even think of Albedo? Well you could answer that last one at least. You loved him. You loved him very much. And even if he didn’t reciprocate the way you did, even if your friends told you it was pointless and your mind chastised you for putting yourself through the ringer, even if all that was true, you weren’t going to stop. Because you were Albedo’s friend and he was yours. And for now that was enough.

Even if a part of you continued to hope that one day this would change.

Beidou

Beidou was utterly out of your league and you knew it.

It wasn’t exactly a difficult conclusion to come to after all. Brash, outspoken, good with a sword, Beidou embodied that sort of restless, self-reliant spirit you wish you yourself could emanate.

It didn’t hurt that Beidou had essentially rescued you from destitution, having found you languishing in a corner of one of the seedier docks of Liyue, and having taken you in quickly after the fact. You owed her a great deal, and was glad to do so. After all you’d fallen hopelessly in love with Beidou.

Life aboard a slightly illegal ship was bound to be an intimate one. Everyone knew everything about everyone else, and it was very difficult to find someone that hadn’t heard about your crush. Someone who wasn’t Beidou, that was. Although it wasn’t like you attempted to hide it; you just never brought it out in the open. And who could blame you? How could anyone who’d nearly died of starvation waiting for some sort of divine help compare to the bravest captain you’d ever met?

So you two settled into a routine of sorts, at least in your mind. You ate every meal as close to her as possible, something which had been difficult at first but as the “secret” spread around became almost comically easy, you discussed your plans with her first, gave her various trinkets you’d found in your travels, asked her opinions about your weapon then asked her to train with you. The training sessions had almost killed your resolve not to tell her, nothing was so intimate as having someone constantly checking your posture, moving and arm here a leg there, closely monitoring how you moved and acted.

All the while you said nothing. It felt selfish after all to even think about it. Beidou had many a time told her crew that they were one big family. On top of the obviously platonic motives behind her love for you, you weren’t about to impose on the crew by trying to take the spot as favorite or partner. It’d make you feel sleazy.

But damn if sometimes your resolve wasn’t tempted. It was the night after a particularly successful raid, and everyone was drunk out of their minds. Even you were tipsy, although compared to the rest you were positively sober. Sitting next to Beidou, who was walking up and down the tables making speeches of various levels of comprehensibility, you thanked the archons above that this woman had saved you. It was all worth the pain and suffering, if only to see her smile, which was blinding at the moment.

“You were brave, my dear compatriots! Distinguished! Honored! Positively courageous!” Beidou let out a slight “hic”, her vocabulary always did turn a bit grand when she drank too much. “Indeed, I’m sure not even the greatest of emperors had an army which could rival the visage of our band of brothers! Storming the deck, why we all might’ve perished! Damned visions, they’re for cheaters! For fraudsters! You all fight without them, and in doing so you prove yourself far more valiant, far more exemplary than they do!” Evidently Beidou had forgotten she herself was a vision wielder. Then again, so had everyone else.

“On this night of victory, of perilous and prestigious triumph, I wish to congratulate the greatest of warriors! This! My proverbial right hand man, the distinguished…” Beidou turned around towards you, gesturing in a very flamboyant sort of manner. You stood there, shocked by the sudden attention, blushing deeply, brain so filled with awe that you only half realized Beidou couldn’t remember your name.

“Yes! This person, this noble scalawag!” Beidou lifted you up so you were standing next to her, archons was she strong. “Now I don’t believe in laws, but if I did I’d marry them I would! You all ought to be more like them, mark my words I want to see some shaping up! There are no levels on this ship, but if there were they’d be higher than you all! Pay attention to my words, they are final!” And with that, speech apparently over, Beidou planted a soft, if slightly messy, kiss on your cheek.

If it weren’t for the people around you, you might’ve fainted.

The next day announced itself with a headache, though as the least hungover of the group you were put in charge of dishing out the medicine and water. The whole ship appeared to be groaning, and though the crew was usually quite active and excited at almost any hour of the day, you could tell that most of the men and women just wanted to roll over and go back to sleep.

“Captain wants to see you when you’re done with your rounds.” There were a few other people helping you out, and the one that informed you about this raised an eyebrow as you promptly turned white as a sheet, before a splotchy shade of red covered your face. What was she going to say? Had she remembered what had happened the night before? You admitted to yourself that maybe banking on Beidou forgetting was a doomed cause from the start. Beidou was perhaps brash and a lover of alcohol, but her memory was sharp, and she somehow managed to never drink herself to total incompetence. If you challenged a drunk Beidou to a duel your chances were going to be about the same as if you’d challenged her sober. Hell maybe they’d be even worse. With that grim thought in mind you distributed the last of the medicine, wiping your hands needlessly on your clothes before walking towards the captain’s cabins.

You loved Beidou’s cabins, they somehow seemed both incredibly grand and inexplicably homey. With furniture made out of a plush and luxurious red sort of material, it was nonetheless crowded by knickknacks; drawings, carvings, and other such paraphernalia littered the shelves and the dressers. Beidou had once told you almost all of it was from current or former shipmates. The luxuries they stole had no use in her home.

“Captain Beidou?” You ventured. The captain was at her desk, scribbling out something, probably a plan. She loved to plan in her free time, whether or not the plan was something doable or a total fantasy. Now she looked up, setting her pen down and smiling her classic, cocky grin.

“Ah, my favorite shipmate. How’re we feeling today?”

“W-well!” You managed to get out, a bit distracted by the nickname. Ah, it seemed she had remembered at least part of it. “Um, captain, I was told you wanted to see me.”

“Yes, I did. I’ve been thinking since last night, thinking a great deal, and I was wondering, what would you think to becoming my partner, in a, well, romantic sort of sense.”

“So suddenly?” You replied, eyes widening but nevertheless cracking a smile. Beidou’s confession had been blunt, devoid of all the usual flourishes. And yet it was what you wanted, what you’d always wanted.

“Well why not?” Beidou shrugged nonchalantly. “After all considering how you’ve been acting towards me for the past few months, I figured why not become my partner. Unless I’ve been reading you wrong of course.”

“No!” You exclaimed. “I mean yes, I mean, well yes to the first and no to the second. I’d love to become your partner, and you haven’t been reading me wrong.” Your gaze dropped to the floor. “I just figured I wasn’t good enough. I mean you’re… you. And besides, you said we were all a family. I figured you wouldn’t want me as a partner.”

Beidou raised her eyebrow slightly as her smile melted into a smirk. Shaking her head slightly she approached you, raising your gaze every so slightly. “Well I can tell you right now I’m not too good for you. Not only are you good with a weapon, but you’re about as tough and fearless as they come. I don’t want to hear about how you’re secretly scared or whatnot. Everyone is that doesn’t matter. But you fight well and without second thought. And I admire that. And as for the speech about family, well a romantic partner is family of some kind. Besides the crew won’t mind, they’ve been talking about it for ages.”

“I guess they have.” You blushed; apparently Beidou hadn’t been as uninformed as you thought.

“Any last words before you’re my partner?” Beidou’s smile was as wide as you’d ever seen it and just as infectious; you grinned back.

“I love you.”

“Good. Now,” Beidou smiled, planting a soft kiss on your cheek and then a peck on your lips – something which left you grasping for coherent thought “let’s tell the others.”

Keqing

Working with Keqing was an experience akin to slowly dying inside.

You’d become somewhat enamored with the Yuheng of the Liyue Qixing ever since you’d first met her. Her brusque and honest manner was refreshing, and when listening to her talk about the archons, about Liyue, about how the past and the present tied together, you never really seemed to question her. She always gave off the impression of intelligence, and, unlike some others you’d met, she had the brains to back it up. And what could you say? Before you knew it you had a crush on her.

Yet working with her showed other sides of Keqing too. She was very self-conscious when it came to compliments. Not that she minded them per se, as one time you’d asked her if your constant praise was a bother. “I just never know how to respond.” She’d admitted, and to be fair you understood that. But as long as she told you she liked them you’d compliment her.

Of course you knew it could never go beyond that. Keqing was your coworker; she was your superior in almost every way, both in occupation and in character. She never lost her cool or found herself off guard when fighting treasure hoarders or when dealing with rowdy citizens. She was efficient, capable, and aware of her incredible abilities. And she didn’t feel the need for a partner, something she had told you every time someone else worked up the courage to ask her out. You couldn’t bring yourself to impose on her like they did, not when you knew what her answer would be.

It was a slightly disheartening existence, and indeed sometimes you wondered what the point of it was, wondered if you shouldn’t just quit. But that wouldn’t be fair, not to Liyue, and not to Keqing herself. She relied upon the other members of the Liyue Qixing to work efficiently and without sudden disruption. And the sudden quitting of someone who was hardly at the bottom of the ranks would’ve certainly done just that.

Besides, Keqing was first and foremost your friend. It was a bit of a fragile friendship, yes, but it was friendship nonetheless; and you valued that friendship well above your own infatuation. If you had to bottle your feelings up so be it. You owed it to Keqing to keep it together, to not impose on her what she obviously didn’t want and to not punish her for it by drawing away. So it hurt, so what? A lot of things hurt, doesn’t mean they aren’t worth doing or experiencing. And this was certainly one of those things.

It was late evening, and most of the cubicles were dark. You sat, writing the last few sentences of a report, trying to ignore the headache that had been developing since earlier that day. A friend had attempted to set you up on a blind lunch date, and though you appreciated their motive the whole thing had been a chore, and now you were late on your work.

“Almost done?” Keqing’s voice broke through your mental grumblings. Looking up at her you nodded, and Keqing smiled in satisfaction. “Good. Can’t have one of our best workers getting sick on account of working too hard.”

“I won’t get sick.” You assured her. Finally stamping the paper you let out a sigh leaning back in your chair.

“A difficult day?”

“You could say that,” you admitted, “a friend went on a slightly appreciated but incredibly unnecessary mission to get me to go out on a date. Honestly, I’d rather her just treat me to lunch.”

“I can understand the feeling.” Keqing frowned in sympathy. “People are too obsessed with the idea of romance, so much so it blinds them. There are more important things in this world.”

“I’d say most people consider love pretty important.” You commented. Keqing shook her head in response.

“Perhaps, but aren’t ideals better than individual wishes? Romance may be fun, perhaps, but there are other things to consider. Besides, I find your company far more enjoyable than I would any date.”

“You do?” You responded, heart fluttering slightly; you hoped Keqing didn’t notice the blush spreading across the bridge of your nose and coloring your cheeks. Luckily it was slightly dark in the office.

“Oh certainly,” Keqing waved her hand dismissively, “you’re the best coworker and friend I’ve ever had. No significant other could give me advice like you do, or help me so much when I’m struggling with work or with my thoughts, and dates are so formal and boring and awkward compared to spending an afternoon with you. Really I’m perfectly content relationship wise with our friendship. Relationships are full of pitfalls, people keeping this little thing from their partner, or omitting that little act. No, better to have an open and supportive friendship like we do.”

“I’m glad you think so.” You replied, and really you did. You’d known since day one that a romantic relationship was off the table. So if you could stay by Keqing’s side and support her, if only a little longer, then you’d be perfectly content.

Even if a part of you still wished that things could’ve been different.

Zhongli

To be fair to Zhongli you weren’t sure how much he understood of any type of human relationship. The fact that the Geo Archon had befriended you in the first place was an achievement in itself.

And yet he had befriended you, and soon you’d found yourself falling in love with the slightly aloof, slightly out of touch geo archon. Zhongli was much more than that of course. Surprisingly open, the ex-deity took to finding out information about humanity with zeal. Always eager to ask you questions and to hear about how your day had gone or how you felt after something particularly happy or sad or gratifying, Zhongli had morphed into a pseudo confidante for you. Someone you found yourself relying on more and more. His gentle nature didn’t hurt either, or his looks for that matter; all in all Zhongli seemed like the perfect sort of person, and though you knew that you’d never be able to measure up to an archon, you found yourself unable to suppress the overwhelming love you felt for him.

Zhongli didn’t seem to mind your openness at all, indeed he sort of relished it, or at least he seemed to. Every time you reached out to grab his hand he gladly slipped it into yours, and whenever you ran up and hugged him after a long period of not seeing one another he always hugged you back. He’d eat lunches with you, and sometimes dinners, and sometimes weekends were spent running around Liyue, or at home listening to one another’s stories or reading one another’s books. It’s truly a magical sort of feeling to share a book with someone. But then again with Zhongli everything seemed magical.

Of course affection aside the whole matter never crossed the line of friendship. You never told him of your affections, and in return Zhongli never initiated anything further than conversation. Not that it bothered you; you felt there was a bit of a gap between you and Zhongli. After all surely it was idealization which caused you to recognize that someone like Rex Lapis had no want or inclination towards engaging in a relationship with a mere mortal. Facts are facts, and there’s no changing them, no matter how much you wanted to.

And yet how odd fate is.

“What is being in love like?”

You looked up at Zhongli, trying desperately to act as if you hadn’t felt your heart rate spike to unhealthy levels.

“Uhm… what do you mean what is love like?”

“I’ve noticed mortals are very enamored with love. I have to admit, my experience with romance is minimal; archons and adepti seldom see romance as something that affects them. But I want to know, as a human, what is love like to you?” There was no mockery or sense of superiority in Zhongli’s face. Not that you expected there to be. Zhongli never looked down upon humans as unequal. Many times he’d told you he admired them. Taking a breath you thought of your answer.

“Well… hmm. Love is very different for everyone. To some love is like an inferno; it’s very sudden and very intense. It sort of burns them up, it’s all they think about. I think that’s less love, more infatuation, but to some that is indeed love. To others love is sort of… staid. It’s being able to rely on them, to talk to them about anything and everything without feeling embarrassed or like you have to put on some sort of show. It’s knowing that there’s someone who will always side with you or help you realize what’s right, or be there when you feel terrible. To them love isn’t passionate, it’s comforting.”

“And to you?” Zhongli interrupted, a look of thoughtfulness on his face.

“Well to me it’s somewhere in the middle, I suppose to most people it’s somewhere in the middle. And this is only romantic love after all. Love is so big, so all encompassing, I think it’s hard to pin down. But to me romantic love is both; it is the passion that causes people to do crazy things and espouse crazy sorts of ideals, and it is the staid comfort of knowing there is someone who will always understand you, and always support you in that understanding.” You paused, realizing you’d been prattling on a bit. “Why, may I ask? Is there a reason you want to know.”

“Yes,” Zhongli admitted, voice slightly less calm than usual. “I, I’ve been thinking about my feelings towards someone a great deal recently; they’ve been alien, although not distressing per se. They feel as if I’m always on some sort of edge, but I don’t feel upset by it. Instead I want to approach it, want to be around the person who makes me feel that way. I wanted to understand that emotion more. I wondered if it was love. Thank you for answering my question, it was most enlightening.”

“That person must be very lucky.” You replied, keeping your tone as light as possible, trying to ignore your emotions, which had risen and dropped so very quickly. “I suppose I’ll have to lay off on the affection now. Part of love is sometimes being a little bit jealous, at least in the beginning, at least for some people. It’s silly, really, but I wouldn’t want to impose.”

“I wouldn’t worry about that.” Zhongli’s tone was surprisingly wry, as if there was a joke somewhere you’d missed.

“Why?” You asked, brow furrowing slightly.

“Because the person whom I was enquiring about is you.”

Honestly you would’ve been less surprised if Zhongli had told you that he was going to run away from Liyue and join the circus. All you could manage to sputter out was: “Are you sure?”

“Of course I’m sure!” Zhongli chuckled slightly. He raised his hand, gloved fingers ghosting your cheek as he tucked a lock of your hair behind your ear. “I’ve suspected it for some time, but I wanted to be sure. Are you alright with me telling you this?”

Alright? You were over the moon! Had you ever been this happy before? You weren’t sure, but you were happy now.

“Of course it’s alright. Zhongli, I’ve liked you for months now.”

“Then why didn’t you tell me?” Zhongli tilted his head slightly in confusion. You stared down at your hands, slightly embarrassed.

“I thought I wasn’t good enough for you. I mean you’re an archon and I’m a mortal. I’m hardly different from the other people of Liyue, and I just, I don’t know, I was scared of rejection, I was scared you’d think I was overstepping and that our friendship would crumble. And I didn’t think I could stand that.”

At first Zhongli said nothing, instead he held out his hand. You gladly placed your palm in his, comforted by its warmth.

“You shouldn’t hold yourself so cheaply,” Zhongli spoke softly, “there are a great many extraordinary things about you. Your affectionate nature, your determination to live even when the world is dark and dangerous, your willingness to open your heart to some ancient archon who knows little of humans. If that’s not extraordinary, I don’t know what is. I don’t feel towards anyone as I do towards you, at least I haven’t in a long time. So don’t think of yourself that way anymore, please.”

“I won’t.” You replied. And it was true. You knew you wouldn’t be able to, not anymore. Zhongli would make sure of that, already you could tell.

To some love burns like fire in the mind, to other it wraps you up in a blanket of comfort. You felt incredibly lucky, for you despite yourself demanded both, and somehow fate had bestowed it upon you. And for that you would be forever grateful.

#is damn a swear word?#I tagged just in case #I have sort of triumphed over my computer #genshin impact #genshin impact fanfiction #albedo #beidou #keqing #zhongli #albedo x reader #beidou x reader #keqing x reader #zhongli x reader #scenarios #my writing #requested

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tenthgrove · 3 years

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Yandere MBTI P2: In-Depth Explanations

This is a follow-up to my previous post, for those who are interested in wanting to know the in-depth features of each type. You'll want to read part 1 first to avoid confusion.

Reminder of the Lettering system: C = Covert, O = Overt, D = Distanced, S = Smothering, R = Relaxed, W = Wary, P = Prepared, I = Impulsive

CDRP: Probably the most introverted type, CDRP yanderes tend to be very strong planners who appreciate the fucked up nature of their love and allow for the various reactions you may have. Their relaxed quality typically comes from guilt, which is also what drives them to behave distantly, while the covert quality may be less strong than other Cxxx types as they cannot bring themselves to lie entirely about their intentions. They want you to love them in your own time.

Example- Risotto Nero.

CDWP: The shrewdest yandere type, CDWPs are incredibly intelligent with a tendency to manipulate and a resistance against manipulation. Through great planning, they convince you to stay by their side through imaginary threats, but are careful enough not to blow it by showing inappropriate amounts of affection or too much trust before either is warranted. A very hard yandere to get away from, if you even want to.

Example- Lisa Lisa

CSWP: If you like being scared just a little, this is the yandere for you. Realistic thinkers who know you will likely despise them at first no matter what they do, they do not push for your love too early, but take up your time all the same. They don’t waste their time waxing poetic about their love for you, at least not yet. You’re clearly not listening as you look around in terror, anyway.

Example- Sorbet

CSRP: The most common of all the covert types, CSRPs are confidant in the strength of their lies to the point they have little worry for anything else. They are happy to treat you as any normal lover would and give you freedom to do as you wish, because you’re so tightly wrapped around their finger they don’t need to lock you up.

Example- Bruno Bucciarati

CDRI: This is perhaps the rarest yandere due to the conflict between the CD and RI types, but it is possible. Such yanderes are typically non-violent, eccentric individuals who appreciate their darling’s presence for the sake of it rather than needing constant affection. They may kidnap a darling on impulse, lie about why they did it, and hope their good treatment and high level of freedom will be enough to prevent a run away.

Example- Rohan Kishibe

CDWI: Somewhat of a classic, CDWIs are often outcast types who fall in love at first sight and know they need to have their darling any way possible. Since they keep their distance and are likely have other security measures in place due to wariness, they likely have a somewhat weak covert aspect, but will still be vague about their intentions.

Example- Jotaro Kujo

CSWI: They had a plan. It didn’t work. CSWIs are daydreamers. They may have elaborate fantasies about how to obtain their darling that are just plain hopeless, bringing on an intense paranoia and need to lie about their intentions when push comes to shove. Often highly insecure, they dote on their darling almost as a means of apology.

Example- Illuso

CSRI: Another highly passive type, CSRIs are often gentle individuals who don’t want to see their darling sad at any cost, so will resort to lies rather than force to get you in their grasp. Less planned than their CSRP counterparts, you’ll find a lot of people you might describe as ‘pure of heart, dumb of ass’ in this category. Arguably one of the least yandere yandere types in the system.

Example- Josuke Higashikata

ODRP: Rational individuals who appreciate the same quality in their lover. These yanderes are often negotiators, who make their motivations clear from the get-go and promise no harm in exchange for a certain level of relationship. Trusting you to hold to your word, they see no reason to force affection or restrict your liberty. Everyone’s happy.

Example- Tiziano

ODWP: A highly thoughtful group, ODWPs are somewhat pessimists, but hold dear affections for their darling and see you as deserving of the truth. They give you your space but are weary should you fall for them too soon, seeing it as suspicious. Rest assured, they do not expect you to live in awkwardness forever, and have great plans for a happy, blissful life once you are safe in the knowledge you love each other.

Example- Leone Abbacchio, Prosciutto

OSWP: One word. Unhinged. Some of the most… ahem, ‘fun’ yanderes, OSWPs want you to know exactly how bad they are down for you, and will remind you of it constantly. Expect incessant pestering, and a 2 year schedule for all the fun stuff they want to do with you as a couple. And don’t bother trying to escape either. Even if you do make it past all the security, they check on you twice hourly even in your sleep.

Example- Cioccolata, Gelato

OSRP: Perhaps this group’s most… unique… feature is that a lot of OSRPs seem to have little comprehension of the extremity of their actions. That’s mostly a combination of the overtness, the relaxedness and the preparedness, but the smothering really goes to show how little they find their obsessions strange for you. Hey, at least they’re all very chill. To be honest they actually make for some good company.

Example- Melone

ODRI: Arriving at the last row of the table, the OxxI types, we have the yanderes who are quite frankly figuring out what they’re doing at the same rate as you are. ODRIs are perhaps the most chill out of everyone, letting you spend vast quantities of your time completely unsupervised. Often, they’ll just give you one quick scare at the beginning to stop you running, then release you to do your own thing as long as you meet up every so often.

Example- Squalo, Guido Mista

ODWI: A complete contrast to the previous type, ODWIs are yanderes driven by fear of losing you, juxtaposed against a crushing guilt for their actions. Many ODWIs will genuinely believe you are in danger, causing them to abduct you on a whim out of paranoia. Most of your interaction early on is them just checking on you, since they’re too guilty for a proper interaction. On the plus side, they’re often very manipulatable.

Example- Ghiaccio, Vinegar Doppio

OSWI: Another type that honestly had no intention of going yandere but felt like they had no other choice for one reason or another. Real sweethearts, they feel like resorting to extremes is the only way they can get to be with you, but feel bad and try to make for it via their affections. OSWIs and ODWIs are very similar, the main difference being whether they see affection as an encouragement or hindrance to your love. It’s for this reason OSWIs tend to be the most delusional of yanderes.

Example- Pesci

OSRIs: These people would worship the ground you walk on. Always up to negotiate your treatment in exchange for a sweet smile, OSRIs dream of a happy future serving you. You just need a bit of encouragement to see how badly they love you first, of course. As you can probably guess, they are quite a naive bunch, and usually quite easy to manipulate. Though then again, they treat you so well, do you really want to leave?

Example- Formaggio, Secco

#yandere cw

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awanderingdeal · 3 years

Note

hi! I hope you’re having a great day! I really like how you write the cubs dynamic and I wanted to ask if you could write some fluffy o’knutzy smut?

Hi! I had a lovely day. I hope you have too!

Thank you so much for your kind words :D

A rare turn of events, I was struggling to write the smut for this so its basically two thousand words of Leo simping for his boys (and food). I hope you enjoy it anyway!

CW: Food (oh so much food) and Sex.

Rating: M

Leo, Logan and Finn are original characters created by the lovely @lumosinlove. I love these boys and you should too. Go check out her writing to see more of them!

"Je vouidrais duex baguettes, sil vous plait," Finn asked, showing the vendor two fingers. The words were stilted and barely comprehensible, but even from a short distance away Leo could see the pride spilling off of him. The vendor gestured to the array of breads in front of her. Leo saw her mouth moving, but he couldn't quite make out what she was saying. Whatever it was made Finn's eyes widen in panic.

Leo watched Logan place a reassuring hand in the small of Finn's back. It was pleasant to not be so on guard all the time. They hadn't abandoned caution completely, but at least there was some element of anonymity here. Preoccupied with the small gesture, Leo missed whatever interaction had happened. It seemed any falter in communication had been repaired now, Finn handing over the required euros with a beaming smile.

"Merci! Bonne journée," Finn's grin stayed in place as he slipped the two baguettes in a cloth bag and he clutched his hard earned purchases to his chest.

The vendor shared a laugh with Logan. Leo noted that she looked younger than the other stall-holders, barely older than himself, and the smile appeared to slice another few years off. He couldn't help but imagine himself in her position. Not here, but in New Orleans. An array of freshly caught seafood on offer: crab and lobsters and oysters. Another life. Maybe better. Maybe worse. Definitely different.

He shook himself out of the thought, looking up to see Finn and Logan heading towards him. Logan threw his hand up in a wave, despite the fact, they had been apart for less than ten minutes. His skin had tanned, a few shades darker than normal, his hair grown out long enough that it was beginning to curl. Leo knew he would cut it soon; Logan hated the feel of it brushing the name of his neck, but he'd enjoy it while it lasted.

"Hey," Leo asked once they were nearer, "How'd it go?"

"Fish continues to bastardise the French language, but I'll forgive him because he's hot," Logan shrugged.

"No fucking baguettes for you," Finn huffed.

"I was joking, of course," Logan bumped his shoulder against Finn's. "We'll get you fluent yet."

"I want your French in France accent. It's sexier than your French in Canada accent."

"Excusez-moi! My accent is always sexy."

Leo let the two of them banter, listening on with an easy smile. He tugged the second of the traditional market baskets from Logan's hand, their acquisitions making it much weightier than when Leo had last had hold of it, and inclined his head in the direction of the Tremblay's townhouse.

"Yeah, let's go home," Logan agreed.

Leo led the way back, the route familiar after a week of being here. Finn and Logan occasionally drew him into their playful argument for his opinion, but mostly he just replayed the day in his head.

After a breakfast of fresh croissants and coffee, the three of them had ventured down to the beach. Leo didn't want to objectify his boyfriends, but a topless, sweaty Finn and Logan playing volleyball had definitely been a highlight of the morning. Having worked up an appetite, Logan showed them a tiny restaurant nestled into the houses on a side street. Mr. Ollivander, with his white hair and shaking hands, served them an absolutely sublime lunch of ratatouille and grilled tuna. Mopping up the last of his sauce with a hunk of bread, Leo had attempted to charm his way into getting the recipe but alas, the old man was immune. He had, however, recommended the market stall which sold the quiche currently weighing down Leo's basket, so he couldn't be too begrudging. Even though they hadn't made plans for evening yet, Leo was sure whatever happened it would be the icing on top of the metaphorical cake.

The walk back was short, no more than ten minutes. With the markets to the west, and the beach an equal distance away in the opposite direction, the house's location was ideal. However, it was built into the cliffs, and hauling groceries up the cascade of steps in the heat always left Leo hot and clammy. Finn didn't seem to mind; as soon as the door clicked shut behind them, he abandoned the baguettes to the sideboard and draped himself over Leo's back.

"I missed you."

Leo laughed, spinning around so they were face to face, Finn's arms wrapped around him. "I've been with you all day."

"Yeah, but he hasn't been able to do this." Logan drew up onto his tip-toes, and pressed a kiss to the corner of Leo's mouth. Logan seemed to give off a lighter air here in Nice, or perhaps it was the two bottles of wine they'd shared over lunch.

"Hey! Stealing my kisses," Finn protested, furrowing his brow into a mock frown and pressing his lips to the same spot as Logan.

"Alright, alright," Leo laughed. "No need to fight boys, there is plenty of me to go around." He rested his forehead against Finn's, closing his eyes for a brief moment. Finn smelt like the gingerbread syrup he used in his coffee, no matter what time of year it was, and Leo didn't want to let him go. The basket was beginning to feel heavy by his side though. "First I need you to let me put this thing down before my arm falls off."

Finn grumbled, but after another quick kiss he reluctantly let Leo pull away.

***

Leo was ushered from the small kitchen, Finn and Logan insistent on putting the shopping away for once.

Alone in the living room, Leo took the opportunity to look around again. It seemed that no matter how much he snooped he still found himself discovering new things. The bookcase, a grand antique, was an endless source of treasures. There were dog eared comics, a yellow sun hat that was probably small enough to fit Katie Dumais, and a wristband from the local aquarium, faded with age. They were just ordinary objects, left behind over years of vacations, but each one gave Leo an additional piece to the Tremblay family puzzle.

A mismatch of frames dominated the shelves. Leo browsed, his fingers settling on one that was slightly out of focus. A baby Logan was red faced, squirming in his sister Aubrey's arms, their mother reaching out to take him. Someone had penned the words 'The reality of it" underneath in an elegantly scripted hand.

Aubrey had her own child now, a daughter named Cordelia. She and baby Logan looked remarkably similar.

"Peanut!"

Leo jolted, almost knocking over the entire shelf.

"Sorry," Finn apologised, nudging Leo's shoulder gently. "I called you a few times. What's got you all up the stars, huh?"

Leo glanced at Finn, a smirk lifting the corner of his mouth. "Just thinking of Lo in uncle mode." He swore Finn's eyes dilated as he splayed the back of his hand across his forehead, pretending to swoon.

"Yeah, okay. I'll give you that one," Finn laughed.

"Don't you know it's rude to talk about people behind their back."

Logan's voice took Leo by surprise again, but his reaction was somewhat more restrained this time. "Are you two trying to give me a heart attack today?"

"I can think of more fun ways to get your heart rate up," Logan said, his tone a little cheeky as he sidled up behind Leo, pushing his hands under the hem of his shirt. His thumbs massaged slow circles into Leo's skin and he pressed a kiss to the back of his neck. Leo gave a low moan, leaning back into the ministrations.

"Is this what you want to do with your evening?" Leo chuckled, although he wasn't doing much to dissuade Logan's actions.

Finn made a show of checking his watch. "Seems like a perfect time to go to bed."

"It's 4pm," Leo quipped.

"You wanted to rollerblade along the promenade tomorrow, right? I read that it was like 4 miles each way. We'll need all the rest we can get."

Rest. Leo rolled his eyes, his smile betraying his amusement. "You can just ask if you want to have sex."

"We were trying to be romantic," Logan said, his words muffled against Leo's back.

"Oh, my bad," Leo drawled, straightening up a little. Logan, ever the limpet, moved with him. "I'm ready to be romanced now."

"You're the worst," Finn laughed, the unrestrained joy was one of Leo's favourite sounds. "Leonardo Knuttius, if you would do us the honour of allowing us to rock your world, we would very much appreciate it."

Logan snorted, his grip loosening on Leo's hips. "What he said."

Leo blinked a few times, unable to think of words suitable enough to respond to the absurdity that had just left Finn's mouth. "I'll pretend you didn't say that," he pursed him lips, allowing himself to be tugged in the direction of the bedroom.

***

Leo whined, low in the back of throat as Finn sank into him. He tilted his head back, hands grasping at Finn to pull him into a kiss.

Logan panted, pushing back against Leo. "Fuck me."

"Always so impatient," Leo chuckled. He meant to tease Logan a little longer, but Finn fucked into him and Leo knew Logan could feel every bit of it.

The three of them were adventurous, they enjoyed experimenting with different positions. Sometimes the results were spectacular. Sometimes they ended up laughing too much to get anywhere. But, this, Finn fucking into him, whilst he fucked Logan. It would always hold a special place in Leo's heart. They were smoother now. Logan could hold off his orgasm better now - if he wanted to. But it would always be reminiscent of that first time together.

They rocked together, grasping at every spot of skin they could. A roll of Finn's hips. The squeeze of Logan's ass. Finn finished last as always, spilling down Leo's throat. Logan kissed him afterwards, his tongue seeking out Finn's taste. They lay together, chests heaving until one of their stomach rumbled. They all denied it, but each of them admitted to being able to eat something.

***

It felt a bit like of an injustice to the quiche to be eating it like this, all sweaty and riding the high of their orgasms. Or perhaps, this was exactly how the cook wanted it to be experienced; woven into love.

"Stop it, you're going to get crumbs on the bed," Leo reprimanded Finn who was leaning across him, a slice of the tart balancing precariously in his hand.

"I won't, it'll be cute," Finn argued. He smushed the quiche into Logan's mouth, less romantic, and more reminiscent of a cake smash. Inevitably, the pastry flaked all over the sheets. Finn glanced at the mess, then looked up at Leo, smiling impishly, "I'll clean that up, I promise."

Leo felt warmth. A different kind of warmth to that of the sun beating down on him. This one seemed to radiate from the inside outward. It was the kind that occurred when you knew that your boyfriends were idiots. And that still, you loved them very, very much.

#logan tremblay #finn o'hara #leo knut #sweater weather #lumosinlove #rating:m #cw:food #cw: sex #18+

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equalseleventhirds · 3 years

Text

i said i wouldn't write it but i did

vaguely a sequel to this, but far in the future and focused on jon (annabelle features briefly tho. she's fine. annabelle will always be fine in my fics.) with ofc the presupposition that they've failed in one world but kept trying, bcos i think that would be fun*!

*(by which i mean heartbreaking, i'm so sorry)

There are rules, to the traveling, or at least there seem to be. There are certainly questions to be asked and points to be made, about how many instances count as a definitive rule rather than simply a pattern. But Jon likes to think of them as rules. He's always preferred concrete answers, even if it turns out they're less the truth and more just a convenient way of conceptualizing things.

So he has rules.

First: the Fears always come through on the same day. October 18, 2018. Or, given the impact history has on calendars, the equivalent of it; he'd once spent months trying to correlate the forty-third moon of cycle 1852 with his calendar just to prove his point, but the math had all worked out.

(Which does indicate, at least to Jon, that yes, the Fears probably did originate in his home world, Georgie. He'll take his petty wins where he can get them. For as long as he can remember the discussion, and the people, he's proving wrong.)

Second, it is still his tapes that the Fears follow. For every apocalypse there has been a new catalyst, but none of these new rituals supersede his. Maybe it's a testament to the strength of the Web's original plan, or maybe it's just something about Jon himself. He knows what he thinks, but... well, there isn't enough proof just yet.

Third, in spite of endless attempts to trap them and stop them, Jon is always able to travel with the Fears. Perhaps they simply can't stop him, as the original antichrist he apparently is; dozens of apocalypses in dozens of different universes, and Jon can always feel his rightful place as ruler of that terrible fearscape calling to him. He hasn't taken it yet, but it's there, and the Eye cannot abandon its true pupil without his permission.

Or perhaps they simply don't care. Every attempt so far has led to the exact same result, after all: another world left behind, another death by starvation averted, another new feast for the Fears to sink their teeth into.

Fourth, he always passes out upon entering a new world.

It's kind of annoying.

---

It is slightly unusual for him to wake up warm, comfortable, and covered in a blanket, but Jon's not about to complain. It's nice. He doesn't get a lot of comfort, and he likes sleeping in a bed, especially since he's always eldritch-nightmare-free in a new world. For a limited time only, of course.

He's fairly certain he's inside; aside from the softness underneath and around him, the air is still and temperate, the light through his eyelids is artificial, and all he can hear is the faint whirring of appliances and the whispers of two muted voices.

"—complete stranger, definitely dangerous, looks like he's from hell—"

"Okay, fine, but I wasn't going to leave him, and anyway haven't you noticed he's a bit—"

"A bit what? Scarred? Bloodstained? Glowing eyes, because I don't think I need to remind you, Martin, his eyes were absolutely glowing when you found him—"

Martin. Now there's a name. Not an uncommon one, but... he thinks he knows that voice.

Or. Well. He might know both of those voices, actually, which is even more interesting than waking up in a bed.

Jon opens his eyes.

He's met himself before, is the thing. Not in every world, and not always particularly recognizable, but he's met himself. He's met versions of Martin, too, and eventually stopped going completely useless with heartbreak every time. The merest handful of times, he's found both of them in the same world, sometimes something almost like friends, but usually not.

The fact that they have their arms around each other, casual, comfortable, close, is both entirely unexpected and perfectly, wonderfully, terribly familiar. Jon briefly considers crying about it, but there are more important things to be doing. For example.

"The glowing eyes aren't actually that sinister. I mean, they are, but not for the reasons you're probably thinking."

Jon—the other Jon—jumps at the sound of his voice, then leans forward. Curiosity, of course; that hardly ever seems to change. "You—the glowing—who are you?"

"Jon," this new version of Martin scolds, and for just a moment he's back home, with his Martin, with that exasperated tone—but no, this isn't his Martin, and he's also leaning forward now, his voice turning gentle. Concerned. Coaxing, like he's a spooked animal, and Jon doesn't think his Martin has ever talked to him that way. "How are you feeling? We found you unconscious in the street."

He can feel Martin's curiosity too, pushing forward under his concern, just as questioning as Jon but too polite to outright say it yet. He has to cut this off, or he really will cry.

"Mm... no," he says. "Well, yes. But also." Good lord, he's confusing them. Par for the course, but he should probably try to be somewhat comprehensible.

He holds up a hand, extending one finger. "I am... fine. More or less. Trust me, I'm used to this, and this isn't even the worst way it's happened." Another finger joins the first. "My name, as I believe Martin has guessed but then dismissed, is Jonathan Sims. I am not you from the future, nor am I lying, nor am I crazy, because—" a third finger "—interdimensional travel is not only possible, it has happened, is happening, because of and along with terrible monstrosities I am determined to stop, and I have explained this too many times to too many people to have much patience for anyone being shocked and disbelieving, much less a version of myself doing so, so you can either get over it and move on or I can go elsewhere and do something useful."

"Excuse—"

"And," he continues, pushing himself up so he can sit and lean forward even more intensely than his counterpart, "I would actually rather not do that just yet, because I have an extremely pressing question for the two of you."

"Um," Martin says, and "What," says the other Jon.

"How," Jon asks, deepening his voice to exude solemn, ominous, and eldritchly important, "did you two start dating?"

---

It was so... normal. Apparently. Two people, mutual friends, a chance encounter. A prickly exterior ("He hated me," both of them had claimed), but without the insecurity of being Head Archivist and the fear of dread powers beyond his comprehension, their friends had helped him open up and—eventually—apologise. A budding friendship, and then a romance, and then...

It isn't a version of them Jon has seen anywhere else, in any of the worlds he's traveled to. Normal as it is, it's a highly improbably scenario, and certainly not the same as his relationship with his Martin had been. But it was, in an infinite number of worlds, still a possibility.

Jon isn't quite sure how he feels about that, knowing that some version of them could have fallen in love without the trauma, but that they hadn't managed it.

His hands aren't shaking, as he lights his cigarette. At least there's that.

"I quit, you know," his counterpart says from behind him. "Years ago. I'd forgotten about those until you asked."

"Well then, thank you for indulging me." He gestures, meaning the cigarette, meaning the bed, meaning his claims about reality, meaning his intrusive, gossipy questioning. Meaning everything. He's not sure it gets across.

The other Jon laughs, quietly, and moves to stand next to him. "I am my worst enabler."

"Oh, that's hardly true."

"Mm." They're silent together for a while, but Jon is restless (both of him), and eventually this reality's version opens his mouth to ask. "Do you—do you know why I—I don't want to say believed you, I'm still not sure I do, b-but, didn't throw you out immediately?"

"My myriad charms?" They both laugh at that.

"Jonathan Sims," he says, as if that explains anything.

Jon takes a drag of his cigarette, considering. He could probably Know, but... indulging himself. "What about me?"

"No, not you, or. You know. You. But your name. Jonathan Sims. I decided you weren't, weren't a deliberate lie to trick me, or a future version of myself, or a mind-reading monster—"

"Well—"

"—when you said your name, because none of those things would have said that." He smiles then and holds up a hand, and—oh—his ring glints. "I've been Jonathan Blackwood for a while now."

They'd told him married eventually, but he hadn't even thought about his name. He's certainly thinking about it now. "Jonathan Blackwood," he says, soft, to himself. And to himself. "That... that sounds good."

"It does, doesn't it."

Whatever they might have said next is lost as an incredibly loud engine roars nearby and a sleek black motorcycle pulls up in front of them. Jon sighs and takes one last drag of his cigarette as the rider removes her helmet.

"Been off finding yourself, then, Jon?" Annabelle asks.

"Oh, extremely funny, yes. Did you steal that?"

"It was a gift."

"Of course it was."

The other Jon is staring at them both, his eyes repeatedly drifting back to the web-covered hole in Annabelle's head. "Who—what is—is that a—"

"She's a spider monster," Jon supplies helpfully. "She came with me, although apparently she did not pass out in the street this time."

"Two streets over, I think. Pity, I would've loved a nice nap in a proper bed, but I did get this motorcycle out of it. Come on, Jon, you can mope on the way."

"I have not been moping—"

"Haven't you? You're not the one who deals with how maudlin you get every time you meet yourself—"

"Yes, fine, thank you, we can go." He stubs out the cigarette and pauses, looking at himself. "Uh. Tell Martin—well, goodbye, I guess. I'd say I hope we meet again, but if you're lucky we won't need to?"

"...sure."

"And I'm—I hope you—that is, I'll do my best—well." He sighs. "Things are about to get... dicey, for the world in general. But just, look out for each other, and we'll try to handle the rest."

"Jon, we should be going."

"Yes, all right, all right." He gives himself one last, probably not very reassuring smile, and climbs on behind Annabelle.

They do have work to do, after all.

#fanfiction #algie writes things #many thoughts head full...........#i am so many theorizing. u kno how it is.#uhhhh so the TINIEST spoilers for the most recent episode? idk #tma spoilers #once again just TINY ones not actually plot ones #at least not that we didn't already get from annabelle's big explanation episode #jm #but also it's complicated #u kno #jon has bittersweet conversations & thoughts and annabelle gets a motorcycle #it's what each of them needs i think

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vallkyr · 3 years

Text

June: What a view

Stray Kids take a little vacation and Minho has a plan for how he and Jisung can pass their time.

Prompt: surreal mountain landscape

Characters: Lee Minho, Han Jisung, Bang Chan is mentioned

Pairing: Minho x Jisung

Rating: Teen and up audience

Warnings: mild wearing, thunderstorms

Genres: Romance, Slice of Life

Tags: Fluff, Established Relationship, Cuddling & Snuggling, Minho and his obsession with butts (especially Jisung's), very vaguely set in the Alps because why not, Jisung can’t say no to Minho for the life of him

Word Count: 3.809

Writing Workshop Masterpost July: A morning at the pool

Hello, dear people. I've started doing a writing work shop with a few of my friends and will try to post my result here every month. I have no idea what the fics will be about since we take turns picking prompts. I hope you'll have as much fun as I do!

“Jisuung.” Oh god. He wants something. Minho always gets that specific tone when he’s about to ask for something he knows Jisung would otherwise turn down. Damnit, they just had breakfast with the others. Jisung was hoping for a quiet day in bed and a movie or two, but he highly doubts that’s what Minho has in mind. Minho wouldn’t use his please-I’ll-do-anything voice for being lazy in their hotel room. Jisung looks up from his phone, finding Minho kneeling on the bed right next to him and looking at him with a way too sweet smile. Mr. resting-bitch-face is up to something big. Fuck, this is going to be a tough one.

“I told you, I’m not holding your phone while you video call your cats. Get a tripod or something.”

As expected, the joke breaks Minho’s façade a little: he rolls his eyes “First of all: how dare you? My children will hear about this. Secondly, that is not what I was going to say.” Jisung raises his brow but decides to believe him. One horrible request is off the list, thank fuck. Feeling generous now that he knows he won’t be used as a stand, Jisung puts his phone aside. Whatever Minho has on his mind can’t be that bad, right? “I would like to go hiking with you.” Boy was he wrong.

“No.” And just like that Jisung is back on his phone. Fucking hiking. That’s what Minho is using his persuasion tactics for? This is supposed to be a little vacation for their group to get some rest after the tour. They came here to relax with their friends not to walk around without an aim for hours on end. How Minho ended up with hiking on his list of hobbies is beyond Jisung’s comprehension. Isn’t fishing already boring enough?

“Please?” With that Minho is back to his cute smile and honey dripping voice and Jisung can already feel his resolve crumble a little under the weight of Minho’s warm eyes.

Jisung groans. No, Minho is not going to wear him down on this. “Can’t you go with someone else?”

“I want to go with you,” Minho stresses and takes Jisung’s hand into his. “Isn’t it obvious? I want to see you move your sweet ass up the mountain.”

Does he really thing compliments are going to help him with this shit? “Chan-Hyung has a sweet ass too.”

Suddenly, Minho breaks into a laugh. Oh fuck, his laugh is way more effective at softening Jisung’s heart than all of Minho’s persuasions. “You want me to go hiking with Channie-Hyung and stare at his ass? Did you really think that one through?”

Okay, yes, well played. “I did not,” Jisung admits while starting to laugh himself.

“Does that mean you’ll come with me?”

For fucks sake, Minho. “No, it’s boring and I hate moving.”

“It’s relaxing!” Minho tries to argue. It’s cute when he tries to convince Jisung of doing physical activities with wildly inaccurate opinions like that.

“If you think very hard you might be able to come up with a relaxing activity that doesn’t require us to go out into the middle of fucking nowhere.” For emphases, Jisung lets the fingers of his free hand slide along Minho’s thigh. Minho hitting his arm cannot stop Jisung from grinning. Considering the amount of time Minho spends with his hands on Jisung’s ass, he should really be able to take a dirty joke.

“Okay, how about this: You go hiking with me and when we get home again, I’ll make you a chocolate cheesecake.”

“Now we’re talking.” Jisung puts his phone down – it’s not like he had been paying attention to it anyways – and leans into Minho’s space. “When you say chocolate cheesecake do you mean chocolate mixed into the creamy part or do you throw chocolate chips into a regular cheesecake?”

Minho blinks at him. The little smile on his face tells Jisung Minho knows exactly he’s about to win Jisung over. Honestly, a chocolate cheesecake might just do the job. A little trip with his boyfriend can’t be too bad anyways, right? “I was going to make a regular cheesecake but with chocolate crust and put chocolate glaze over it.”

Fuck, that sounds good. “You’re a genius.”

“I’m aware.” Minho grins and leans even closer. “So do we have a deal?”

Jisung ponders on it for a moment. He still thinks hiking is going to be boring as fuck. Besides, he’d definitely prefer staying in their room, having dinner with the others and watching a movie together afterwards plus maybe some relaxing activities. But Minho seems really insistent on this. Maybe hiking will be somewhat bearable together with him. Plus, the cheesecake sounds amazing. Why stop at one cheesecake though? Minho might even agree to two if Jisung plays his card right.

“I don’t know…” Jisung turns his head to the side, away from Minho.

“Please?” Minho places his hand on Jisung’s cheek, turns Jisung’s face towards his own and puts on that same sweet smile again, which makes Jisung feel weak in his knees even if he doesn’t want to admit it. “We could watch Spirited Away afterwards, you know? Please Jisung…” Yeah, okay. He can’t say no to Minho’s smile. Jisung tries to lean closer and kiss Minho but is stopped by a hand on his chest. “Answer first.” Of course Minho wouldn’t let his guard slip.

“Okay. I’ll go.” Minho beams at Jisung before going in for the kiss. Yup, this is a good deal. Cheesecake, Spirited Away and a content boyfriend, what else could Jisung possibly need?

🏔️🏔️🏔️

“I should have demanded way more than a fucking cheesecake,” Jisung grumbles while fanning himself with his – Minho’s – shirt. Obviously he put on Minho’s shirt for this. He’s not going to get his own clothes sweaty for Minho’s nature kink.

“Come on.” Minho pats Jisung on the butt before continuing on without mercy. “Get your act together, we’re almost at the summit.”

Asshole. Why did he want Jisung to come along so badly? He really should have known Jisung would only slow him down. “You say that like we won’t have to go back home after that.”

“Well, we can spend some time at the top and rest a bit. That’s kind of the point, you know? Relaxing, enjoying the view and all. It’ll be nice, I promise.”

Yeah, sure, nice for Minho. “Not if I die before we get there. You’re way too fast for me.”

Jisung doesn’t have to see Minho’s face to know he’s rolling his eyes. Pretentious country folk. “Crybaby.” And now he’s insulting Jisung too. Really, Jisung should just turn around and leave. But he doesn’t have the energy for that and would probably get lost on the way back, so he quickly ditches that thought.

“Can’t you give me a piggyback ride?”

Minho turns around and raises his eyebrow at Jisung as though he just said something crazy. It’s ridiculous for him to react that way. By now, Minho should be used to far more obscure ideas. They’re part of the all-inclusive deal of being in a relationship with Jisung. “You’re too heavy.”

“Oh come on! Why the fuck do I date a person who willingly spends time at the gym if they don’t even carry me?”

“Are you saying that you want me to stop going to the gym?”

“Don’t you fucking dare!”

Minho laughs at that and finally stops. He turns around and beckons Jisung over. As soon as Jisung is close enough, Minho grabs his shirt and pulls him in for a kiss. It’s surprisingly sweet after all the bickering. Usually Minho just slaps his ass or gives him a quick kiss on the cheek after an “argument” like that. Jisung enjoys the little treat though. He lifts his hands to Minho’s hips and pulls them closer together, which lurs a little giggle form Minho.

After a while Minho ends the kiss and leans their foreheads together instead. Jisung sighs contently when Minho suddenly caresses his cheek. “Just a little longer. Okay, baby? I promise the sight is worth it.”

A little grin tugs at Jisung’s lips. “Maybe I like the sight right here better.”

“That’s it. I’m going alone.” Without any bit of hesitation, Minho turns around and starts walking again. As though their kiss never even happened. What a dickhead. Just when Jisung thought this trip was getting nice.

🏔️🏔️🏔️

“What a sight.” Minho beams while looking out into the mountain range. Finally, after what felt like a small eternity to Jisung, they arrived at the mountain top. After all the hassle, Jisung feels obligated to follows Minho’s gaze. Despite his earlier reservations, he has to admit Minho was right about the nature. He lets his eyes wander over the jagged mountains, the deep green conifers filling the valley, the lush grass underneath them and the little flowers scattered across it like stars in the night sky. Jisung has never seen anything like it. And he had no idea air could be this fresh. He closes his eyes and fills his lungs. Soft gusts of wind caress over his skin like silk. Jisung takes another deep breath and feels his entire body relax. Maybe Minho was right about that part. When Jisung opens his eyes again, Minho still looking at the nature. His smile is so bright as he enjoys the sight in front of them. Honestly, seeing Minho this content is really making the strenuous way up here worth it.

“Usually you say that while looking at my butt.”

Giggling, Minho turns away from his beloved sight and looks at Jisung. “And I mean it.” Minho pulls Jisung closer and kisses his cheek – the one in his face – before tugging at his hand. “There should be a table up there. We can take a break and eat lunch.” Jisung lets Minho pull him along. Sure enough, they soon come to an old wooden table with benches on the sides. The whole thing looks a little shaky from years of being exposed to the elements, but Jisung figures it will survive a simple lunch. He sits down on the bench cross-legged and watches Minho unpack everything. At the very least, his boyfriend had the decency to carry all their food since he already talked Jisung into this exhausting trip. Jisung hadn’t realized just how hungry he was until he sees the food.

Jisung doesn’t know whether it’s the exhaustion or the breathtaking view, but the food tastes incredible. He leans his head onto Minho’s shoulder as they enjoy their lunch and the view. Sadly, they’re soon done eating and Jisung is already dreading hiking all the way down again. “Can I take a nap here?”

“No. I know your type of naps and I’d like to go back to the hotel before it gets dark.” Jisung would love to protest, but Minho does have a point with that. Which doesn’t mean Jisung is about to give up.

“You’re so damn cruel. You’re really going to make me go home without a nap?”

“Unless you feel like staying here all by yourself.” Damnit. It’s useless, Minho isn’t going to agree to a nap. Of course, they’re going to stay here for a while longer, but Jisung doubts the bit of rest will charge his batteries enough to survive the descent. How can Minho still be so unbothered? It’s like the hiking didn’t phase him in the least. No, Minho has energy for two. Jisung smiles when an idea hits him. He holds onto the table while moving to straddle Minho’s lap and sitting back on his thighs.

“What are you trying to pull?” Despite his obvious suspicion, Minho holds onto Jisung’s waist and gently caresses Jisung’s sides.

“I’ll earn myself a piggyback ride home,” he announces with a grin. Minho may be good at persuading Jisung, but the same is true the other way around.

“Not happening, Jisung.”

“You say that now…” He’s about to kiss Minho when he feels something wet on his back. For a moment he considers if Minho tried to purr water over him, but then more and more drops seem to land on his body. “Is it seriously starting to rain now?” Jisung glares up, finding a dark grey cloud right above them. “We should find somewhere to take shelter.”

“Knew it,” Minho mutters while squeezing Jisung’s butt. “Your ass is made from sugar.”

Jisung sighs. Shitty weather isn’t enough, of course Minho has a dumb comment to add. “That remains the worst pick up line you ever pulled and excuse me for not wanting to catch a cold.”

“Relax, I’m sure it will pass soon.” Of course, Minho stays completely unaffected. He pulls Jisung closer and nuzzles his face into the crook of Jisung’s neck. “Whatever happened to earning your piggyback ride?” Jisung tries to ignore the rain and go back to kissing Minho, which seems to work for barely a minute. The occasional rain drops become bigger and bigger and more frequent until a cloudburst breaks down on them and drenches them to the bone. They gather all their stuff accompanied with muttered curses of ‘What the hell.’ and ‘Fucking shit.’ As soon as everything is inside their backpacks again, they make a run for a group of trees, hoping that it will keep at least some of the rain away from them.

“That much on ‘It will pass soon.’ Fuck!” Jisung tries to shake off the water, which proves rather useless. They’re completely soaked. “What do we do now?!”

“Sit here and wait?”

“Are you fucking kidding me?! I knew we should have stayed in the hotel.” Jisung crossed his arms. Hiking sucks by itself and now they’re stuck up here in the rain? Shit. This is what he gets for not being able to tell his boyfriend no. Stupid handsome face and sweet smile.

“Maybe we should have checked the weather forecast…” That idiot really didn’t check the weather? Jisung can feel Minho’s gaze on him, but he refuses to turn around. Minho sighs behind him. Suddenly Minho’s strong arms wrap around Jisung’s body and Jisung finds himself trapped in a hug with Minho pressed against his back. “Baby, are you mad at me?” Yes, Jisung most definitely is.

“You’re going to need way more than Spirited Away and a chocolate cheesecake to make up for this bullshit.”

Minho hums in thought and snuggles even closer. “Ponyo and a chocolate cheesecake?”

“No, you idiot. Howl’s Moving Castle and a chocolate cheesecake.” Jisung can’t help but smile when he feels Minho tremble with laughter behind him. Fuck, he can’t be mad at his boyfriend when he’s adorable.

“This certainly explains why we saw so little people on the way up.”

Jisung groans. “How come we never realized that?” Now that Jisung thinks about it, it really should have struck them as weird that not a single soul was up here.

Minho leans over Jisung’s shoulder to kiss him on the cheek. “I’m sorry, baby. Next time I’ll definitely check the weather forecast. Now come on, if I remember correctly there’s a hut a bit further down the path.” They shoulder their backpacks and get going hand in hand. As though this shit wasn’t enough yet, lighting starts to flash in the distance. Just great. They go from walking to running, which makes Jisung’s hood bounce around his head. He laughs as he grabs it and tries to keep it in place while running behind Minho. More and more water splashes around his feet as they run, but at this point it really doesn’t make much of a difference.

Luckily it doesn’t take too long until a wooden hut comes into view. The final spurt towards it drains the little bit of energy Jisung still had. They almost crash into each other under the roofed over entrance. Jisung leans his head against Minho’s shoulder and tries to catch his breath again, which is difficult when both of them are laughing. With all the noise and his eyes closed, Jisung almost misses the rattling of the door.

“Closed,” Minho comments with a pained laugh.

“Of fucking course it is.”

“Stay here.” As if Jisung even considers moving. He leans against the closed door and watches Minho snoop around, lifting the doormat and pushing potted plants around until he triumphantly raises a key in the air. “Knew it!”

Jisung raises his arms and cheers as he watches his boyfriends unlock the door. They trudge inside and get rid of their backpacks. “By the way, are we even sure this is legal?”

“Would you prefer going back into the thunderstorm?”

Just in that moment, another lightning flashes outside. What a nice way to avoid decision making. “Fuck it. We’re staying.” Jisung throws the door shut.

Minho laughs before grabbing Jisung by his jacket and pulling him into a kiss. It feels a little like kissing in the shower with how wet they are. Except they’re usually far less dressed when they shower together. Minho pulls away with a smile. “I’ll see if we have towels or anything here.”

Though a little hesitant, Jisung lets Minho go and starts to get rid of his soaked clothes. There’s a small table pushed against one of the walls with three chairs around it. The perfect place to spread out their clothes. Hopefully they’ll dry until it’s time to leave.

When he hears footsteps, Jisung turns his head only to freeze right away. Minho is staring. He doesn’t bother with being subtle in the least. Well, Minho never does. Especially not if Jisung is almost naked. Minho fucking grins and wiggles his eyebrows at Jisung when their eyes meet. “There we have the sight again.”

“Shut up, give me a towel and get out of those clothes you’re going to catch a cold.”

“So demanding,” Minho complains. He gives Jisung one of the towels and slaps his ass as soon as his hand is free. Jisung wraps himself up in the towel and returns the favor of blatant staring while Minho sheds his clothes.

“Oh what a sight,” Jisung mimics his boyfriend, laughing when Minho starts to make a show out of it. Minho puts on an exaggerated sexy expression while stripping down piece by piece. In the end Minho even throws his shirt over to Jisung, who catches it and starts clapping. “We should get caught by rain more often.”

“I don’t need rain for this.” Minho grins before putting the towel around his shoulders. “We should probably let the others know we aren’t coming back any time soon. With how much it’s raining, we probably wouldn’t make it home before dark.”

“You’re planning to stay?”

“I could imagine worse than spending a night in the mountains with my boyfriend.” Minho places a kiss on Jisung’s cheek before getting his phone. They quickly call Chan to let him and the rest of their friends to tell them everything is fine and that they’ll return tomorrow before slipping into bed. There’s no wood to make a fire, so they snuggle up against each other underneath the blankets. Because he’s so tired, Jisung feels sleep clawing at him faster than usual. He fully wraps himself around Minho – almost like a koala – and closes his eyes.

“Good night, cheesecake-maker.”

Minho chuckles quietly. He sounds tired too. Very softly, he runs his hand through Jisung’s hair and kisses his forehead. “Good night, my favorite view.”

🏔️🏔️🏔️

Jisung groans and tries to turn away from the light that stings in his eyes. It’s way too early to wake up. At least, Jisung supposed that. He has no idea what time it is. What he does know is that he isn’t even close to being rested enough to get up and hike down this fucking mountain.

“Minho, can you close the curtain or something?”

Minho unlocks their legs and removes his arms from around Jisung’s waist. For a moment, Jisung thinks he’s actually going to stand up and close the curtain until he hears a low, rough voice from beside him. “You’re free. Go do it yourself.”

“Asshole.”

“Love you too.” Jisung pouts when Minho does a kissy face into his direction with closed eyes. Fuck, the asshole is cute and Jisung still can’t say no to him. Jisung immediately misses the warmth and comfort of the bed and Minho’s embrace when he gets up. Damnit. Just hurry and close the fucking curtain.

Jisung has already grasped both of the curtains and is about to pull them close when his gaze falls out the window. Is this really the same mountain range they saw yesterday? It looks like an entirely different world. The mountains emerge from thick layers of fog. The sun is just peaking out from underneath it, coloring everything in a beautiful pink-orange glow.

“Minho!”

“No.”

“You wanted to get a view so come here and look at it!”

Minho grumbles and rolls out of bed while keeping the blanket around himself. Of course, Minho would never willingly abandon the warmth of the bed. He waddles over to Jisung. He can barely keep his eyes open against the sunlight, but obviously he’s immediately able to locate Jisung’s ass and give it a firm slap before stepping up behind him.

“Woah…”

“Yeah.”

Minho brings his arms around Jisung from behind and wraps both of them up in the blanket. A little smile dances over Jisung’s lips while he snuggles back into Minho’s body. This is what heaven has to feel like. It’s so peaceful in this cabin. Everything is quiet and bathed in the golden sunlight of the morning sun.

“Maybe, but really just maybe, hiking wasn’t a bad idea after all.”

“Oh?” Minho places a soft kiss on Jisung’s neck. “Does that mean I don’t have to bake that chocolate cheesecake after all?”

“You don’t have to, you should want to. You still forced me to hike and caught me in the rain, you know?”

“I’m deeply sorry.” Minho sounds sly, amused, smug and anything but sorry, but Jisung can’t be bothered to get annoyed by that. There’s something soft and magical about the moment, about the scene stretching out in front of them like a door into a whole new world.

“Is this real?” Jisung whispers while letting the tips of his fingers dance over his forearm. “It doesn’t feel real.”

“Starting reality check.”

Jisung yelps when Minho suddenly pinches his ass cheek. “Ouch! Asshole!”

“No actually, that’s a bit more to the left.”

Jisung blushes. “Shut up. Please just shut up.” Of course Minho only grins stupidly when Jisung slides his hand into Minho’s neck and yanks him into a kiss. He’s a fucking idiot, but Jisung would give him or his weirdness or his stupid plans for anything in the world.

#kdiarynet #sk writersnet #Sandra's writing workshop #writing #Stray Kids #Lee Minho #Han Jisung #Minsung #Fluff #Established relationship #butt hunter Minho

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jincherie · 4 years

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mystery gang; unsolved |PT.2

☾ — pairing: taehyung x reader ☾ — genre: demon au, supernatural/paranormal au, buzzfeed unsolved au/inspired, smut (oncoming), f2l ☾ — words: 6.2k ☾ — rating: adult! this one is sfw, but final part will be nsfw ☾ — warnings: demons and haunted houses, supernatural & paranormal themes! this is the part where shit goes down, so be aware of that! also some angst ☾ — notes: part 2 of 3! the next part will be the resolution and the smut, so look forward to that!! also wow man first post of 2020!!!

ever since you met taehyung in one of your first year classes at university, you seemed to click and you hadn’t parted from each other’s side since. you’ve been his friend for a few years now, and your mutual interest in the supernatural and taehyung’s propensity for finding the spotlight wherever he goes led to the two of you starting up your very own supernatural investigation vlog series. friends isnt the only thing you want to be, and one night close to hallow’s eve when the two of you get a little in over your heads in a way you never have been before, you find out that maybe it’s not only you that feels that way.

— posted; 05.01.2020 || ⇤prev. | masterlist | next⇥

PART TWO

You wish that you could say that as the night goes on, your nerves begin to ease. They don’t, though; the church, albeit slowly, proves to be feeding into all your fears. You feel paranoid, as you often do while filming this show, but tonight it feels like something… more. As though there’s a little bit more substance to your worries than usual. Needless to say, you’re not a fan.

It begins in the largest part of the church, as you’d expect. The hall where processions were held, lined with pews and intricate statues in its better days, is far too big to be giving you any comfort. There is so much space, so much empty blackness, that it actually feels like it’s closing in on you a bit. Surprisingly, in between segments you record for the vlog, Taehyung ends up distracting you by bringing up all the other times you went to places allegedly home to ‘demonic’ energies. A part of you thinks he’s doing it because he knows you’re uneasy, but the rest of you is more annoyed that he’s making fun of you again. He knows you’re wary of demons!

“You know, I think you’re taking this much better than that last house we did—you know the one a state over?” Taehyung remarks, setting up a little camera so that it can record the two of you whipping out the spirit box.

“Please don’t remind me,” you say, placing a hand over your stomach to quell the nausea rising at the mention of it. “It was popular with our viewers, but at what cost.”

“Yeah, they were surprisingly fond of you looking like you were about to vomit,” Taehyung says, somewhat nonchalant—when you direct a glare his way you can see the cheeky smile on his face, though. “Anyway, that one wasn’t as bad as this one is meant to be, and you’re already doing much better! Kudos.”

“Don’t patronise me,” you say, taking the spirit box from him and moving to one of the seats you’d set up. It feels wrong, in honesty, like sitting down in this seat is inviting a whole lot of misfortune to fall upon you. You don’t bother telling Taehyung that you’re actually doing far worse than last time. “I won’t apologise for having a healthy fear of the unknown.”

Snickering, Taehyung finishes setting up the camera and flicks it on. The lights you have illuminate only the barest patch where you’re sitting. You don’t like it, you don’t like it one bit and you hate that it feels like something is behind you, hands hovering just out of your sensory range. The muscles along your back are tense and rigid and you do your best not to show it to the camera.

“And here I present to the viewers, the crowd—and ghost—favourite, the spirit box!” Taehyung announces for the camera, voice a little louder than you’re comfortable with. You restrain the urge to shush him only because you know he’ll make fun of you for thinking that being loud will attract the ghosts. “We’ll be asking some questions in an open forum for any ghosts, ghouls and-or demons to respond—”

You smack him, delivering him with a warning glare, and he simply chortles as he sits down. You clearly mouth ‘I’ll kill you’ at him, before sitting back in your seat and clearing your throat. “Right, yeah. It’s spirit box time. I literally… can’t put into words how absolutely overjoyed I am.”

Taehyung laughs at how you blatantly forced those words through your teeth, but otherwise remains silent as you fiddle with the spirit box and do your usual introduction for the viewers and spirits around.

“Please, use this as a medium to communicate with us. We’ll ask some questions now.” You finish up the spiel, turning the box over and leaning forward to place it on the pew between the two of you. It’s as you near the pew that the hair along the back of your neck rises suddenly, prickling and making your muscles lock up for the barest second. A breeze brushes across the skin and skims your ear, and you swear you catch a word that rides with it, soft and thin yet clear as day.

“Don’t…”

You shriek as your reflexes kick back in, hand slapping to your neck and a glare already on your face to direct at Taehyung—surprisingly, he seems bewildered at the sudden heat in your gaze.

“That’s not funny!” you scolded him, attempting to pat down the hairs that rose on your neck. “I told you not to whisper in my ear like that when we’re in demon places!”

Taehyung’s hands fly up into a position of surrender. “It wasn’t me! I didn’t do anything! You can check the camera if you want!”

The panic that had already welled within you and was on track to fade reignited at that, fear stopping your thoughts from flowing as they should. There’s an unmistakeably scared edge that enters your voice, “What? But I just—someone—something just whispered ‘don’t’ in my ear, I swear.”

From Taehyung’s face, it’s clear he doesn’t believe you—or at the least, doesn’t believe that some otherworldly entity or otherwise whispered a whole word in your ear.

“No way,” he says, confirming your thoughts. There’s something that flicks across his face though, something out of place but too ephemeral for you to catch. “It was probably just a creak. This place is old, you know.”

“A creak that sounds like a whole word?” You push your case a little more, but you’re already shaking your head in defeat. You know there’s no way to sway his sceptic ass. You think a ghost could appear in front of Taehyung right now, slap him across his face and call his father a whore, and he’d still try and explain it away. “Whatever. The tape will show I’m right.”

Taehyung huffs, clearly entertained—you wish you could be as at ease as he always seems to be. He waves his hand to urge you on. “Hurry up and get the spirit box going so it can be over and done with. I hate listening to it.”

“Fine, but I’m doing it because I was already going to and not because you told me to,” you grumble, reaching for the spirit box and doing your best to force from your mind what happened the last time you were in a similar movement. You look up just in time before turning it on to catch Taehyung looking right at you, a brow raised and something heady in his gaze.

“You’re such a brat.”

You bite your tongue and resign to only sending him a glare, flicking on the spirit box and relishing in the way Taehyung flinches as the harsh sound of static replaces the heavy silence in the air. To be honest, you don’t really like the spirit box either, but it gets results. Well, you think it does. Taehyung would be all too happy to argue the differ.

“Alright,” you start, voice a little shakier than intended. You clear your throat and try to clear your nerves with it. “Let’s get it. First, is there anyone here with us now?”

The static is almost deafening, the volume turned up high enough that some of the audio-crunching is borderline painful in your ears. The device is as jarring as ever, the rate at which it flicks through channels almost distracting enough to lure your attention away from how tense and thick the air feels around you. There aren’t any prominent sounds or words that come through, and you give it a few more moments before probing some more.

“Uh, oh boy… Who… is in this room with us? Meena, are you in here?”

Taehyung snorts. “Or maybe the priest, or the groom that was meant to be married to Meena—anyone? Hello? Man, I don’t think we’re ever going to get something from this stupid box—”

It’s as Taehyung is in the middle of taking the piss that the static morphs ever so slightly, sounds forming the barest edges of words.

“he… here…” Static, louder and louder and then softer, making way for another hint of barely comprehensible sound, “…on’t g… in…”

It’s not loud enough to really count as anything, and not loud enough that Taehyung even notices it over the sound of his own talking, but you can’t help the sudden feeling that gauges a place inside you. You want to leave so badly—you don’t think you’ve wanted to leave a place this much since that first house.

You don’t even realise you’ve become all that distracted until Taehyung’s voice brings you back to the present moment. He’s leaning forward, waving a hand in front of your face; you keep your gaze on the parts of him illuminated before you and away from the pitch black beyond his form. “Yoohoo, you still there? The ghosts aren’t responding to me, it’s your turn to ask them things.”

You roll your eyes, avoiding his gaze for the slight searching edge it has adopted. “Not all that surprising. If I was a ghost I wouldn’t want to respond to you, either.”

Taehyung lets out an offended noise, and just like that the session resumes as it normally would. You can’t shake the odd tension in your muscles, but you can only hope that the hall held the title of creepiest part of the church and that the rest of the night would be smoother, less spooky sailing from hereon out.

X x x x

The rest of the night has not gone by with smoother sailing, you hoped. There are more rooms than anticipated in this building, and painstakingly exploring each and every one is beginning to really take its toll on you. The walls and floors creak, moving with you and even in your wake, like there is another pair of footsteps trailing behind you. The only sound to permeate the air is that of the wood and the odd cricket from outside—when there is complete silence, and even the crickets don’t sound, is when you’ve discovered you hate it most. Because it feels like everything suddenly stops, and everything is then waiting for something to happen. You’re definitely not a fan.

You try and upkeep your usual antics with Taehyung, but this place is really getting to you. On more than one occasion, you swear you can hear the barest of whispers, and feel fleeting, featherlight touches on the parts of your skin bare to the air. There seems to be a common theme in what you swear you can hear: ‘he’s here’, ‘leave.’ It’s not the most ideal thing you could be hearing.

Of course, Taehyung isn’t hearing or feeling a thing. You really hate that none of this ever seems to happen to him, that he’s so damn… immune. If you knew being a sceptic ass would protect you so much, you might have tried your hand at it, but then again you think you’d have a lot of trouble forgetting the things that have happened to you so far.

About midway through the building and a little over halfway through your tour, you enter one of the last few rooms (which you view as simultaneously a good thing and a bad thing, since the last room on your list is the most haunted in the building). Well, enter is a strong word. The second you stopped in front of it, an awful feeling like ice sliding down your spine came over you. The most you were able to make yourself do was stick your head in before Taehyung took the opportunity to waltz on inside, completely unbothered.

“I hate this,” you grumbled, to anyone that would listen at this point. It took you a few breaths before your legs felt strong enough to follow Taehyung into the room.

It’s tiny, admittedly. You have no idea what it would have been used for, before the church fell, and you can’t really tell since any and all furniture in here has since fallen prey to decay and rot. It’s just as you take a few steps in that Taehyung halts, turns around, and huffs.

“Nothing in here,” he remarks, turning on his heel and marching out. “Boring. Come on, let’s go to the main room—the big paranormal breadwinner of this place.”

You sputter incredulously, summoning your thoughts as you turn to follow him. He makes it out the doorway but before you can follow, only a few paces behind, the door that had been wide open for the two of you to enter slams closed with such a loud, shaking BANG you almost topple in fright.

It takes a second for what happened to sink in, another for you to realise you’re now in this room in the dark alone, and another for you to feel the hairs along your neck and back raise all at once. Completely surpassing ‘fight’, you launch at the door and bang on it.

“Taehyung!! This isn’t funny!” You’re scolding him, but you know you didn’t see him anywhere near the door. “Can you let me out? The handle isn’t working in here. Oh, what the fuck, what the fuck—”

With one palm pressed to the door, you try the handle over and over and over again. It’s like it’s locked, or stuck, as though it’s been rusted over in the same place for years and refuses to budge. Except, that makes no sense, because it was literally just open, you were just in here and there isn’t a lock on this door’s handle so it should be opening—

It’s just as panic is beginning to touch the bottom of your lungs, the organs dipping into ice, that you hear the clearest utterance you have all night. A feminine voice, carrying the sadness of all the oceans and the urgency of fishermen when thunder starts to echo across that churning horizon…

“He knows you’re here.”

“Taehyung!” It’s a humiliatingly desperate cry that escapes you without consent, something a distant part of you is already scoffing over. What is calling for him going to do? You’re still stuck in here with this god-awful feeling and now that voice—

Before you can wallow and spiral any longer, there is a splintering sound and you only have a moment to step back before the door is finally swinging open. You aren’t sure how he did it, but you’re presuming it was by force—the handle isn’t even on his side of the door anymore. Taehyung doesn’t even hesitate before grabbing you by the wrist and yanking you out, eyes wide. You have the very sudden, strong urge to just launch yourself at him and cling, but even in the beginnings of your hysteria you somehow manage to refrain. It doesn’t help that you know all it would take to feel secure in this situation is being encased in his arms.

And probably also getting back in the car and getting the hell away from here.

“What the fuck was that.” You hadn’t realised it earlier, but your breath is coming kind of fast. You feel a bit like a frightened animal. “What the fuck—”

“The breeze,” Taehyung says, the answer coming easily. When you look at him, though, he doesn’t seem entirely convinced as he usually is. You’re too shaken to even rub it in like you want to.

“Whatever,” you dismiss, antsier and more eager to get out of here than ever. “Let’s just skip the rest of the rooms and get this big one over and done with.”

Taehyung makes a soft, noncommittal noise that you take as agreement. When you go to move though, he stops you.

“Look, I know the original plan was to spend the night in that room tonight,” he begins, dark cocoa eyes gentle as they hold your gaze. “But you’re getting pretty shaken up—do you want to do some spirit box shit or something instead and just go back to the hotel after?”

Your chest warms at his concern, chasing away a few inches of fear that had embedded themselves over the duration of the night. A part of you is resistant though, the prideful part that wants to see your word through to the end. That resistant part of you isn’t as big as the rest that is thoroughly freaked out, and is therefore quickly outnumbered.

Since the words seem to have gotten stuck in your throat, you simply nod at him, hoping your eyes convey how thankful you are that it’s his suggestion so you didn’t have to ask yourself. You kind of wish he’d also suggested you scrap the part of the plan where the two of you go into the room one at a time and spend five minutes there alone, but you suppose you can’t have everything. You still needed to come out of this with enough good footage for an episode, after all, and there would have been no point coming here and getting borderline traumatised if not for that.

Taehyung offers you a slight smile, low baritone more comforting than he probably realises as he speaks just once more, “Alright, we’ll do that. Now take a few deep breaths, you’re acting like a cornered animal.”

You simply mustered a snort, not bothering to tell him that’s exactly how you feel. You almost spare a thought to wonder who could have been harassing you this whole time—Meena? Her Fiancé? A demon?—but you shut it down before you can work yourself up any more, and do as he instructs. A few deep breaths later and you feel much calmer, less fried. You’re in no way ready to go into that final room, but you’re the tiniest bit more ready to accept that it’s about to happen.

The final room that you had on your list to investigate was, as you now tell the camera and viewers, the most allegedly haunted of them all. It’s a hidden room, through a concealed doorway behind where the church organ used to be and up a cramped, spiral staircase. You don’t know what the original purpose of this room was, either, but you do know that it’s the final location in the number of tales about this place where the bad things happen.

“So, if we are to believe, let’s say, the version that says Meena summoned and made a deal with a demon,” Taehyung says as you climb the staircase, and puts weird emphasis on the word as he says it, likely in an attempt to make you chuckle. Oddly sweet of him. “Then this is the room where she did that? The demon room?”

You do your best to ignore the spike of fear that shoots through your chest. “Yeah,” you answer, voice cracking. You clear your throat. “That would be… this room.”

You’re audibly unenthused, but you’re sure the viewers will love it. They always seem to enjoy you losing your mind.

Taehyung is trailing behind you as you climb the stairs, the wood creaking dangerously under your weight with each step. The only reason you can even see which step to take next is because of the torch in your grasp, although it has grown shakier in the past few minutes than when you first started the night. Now that you think about it, why are you the first one going up these stairs?! That is so unfair!

Then again, if you were going second and something grabbed you from behind…. maybe that would be worse.

You don’t climb very far, and as you near what you presume is the landing that leads to the final room, you can’t help but notice how much heavier the air has gotten. You can feel it all against your skin, dragging along as you walk through it. There’s a feeling beginning to trickle and swirl in the pit of your abdomen, too. It’s nameless, but you know instinctively it is not the kind of concoction that heals and soothes.

“So here it is,” you announce as the two of you arrive on the landing, staring across the few metres between you and the doorway to that stupid room. “The room of the hour, where most alleged bad things in the tales about this place went down. Well, besides the chandelier thing. That was… yeah.”

Taehyung is already looking at you, camera pointed your way, and you can tell from the look in his eye that he knows you’re stalling.

“Right, so, we’re gonna do the usual—go in, spend a few minutes alone, see if we can get a response…” You trail off, gulping and feeling a little nauseous as you describe your nearing fate.

“You want me to go in first?” Taehyung asks, a teasing lilt to his voice. You shoot him a glare.

“And have you stir up any spirits and-or beings that are in there for me? No thanks.”

He laughs, but it’s much quieter than you expect. Almost sullen, you sigh and begin preparing to go in alone. You’re avoiding looking at the door, because you already feel the weird vibes seeping out and you don’t want to look in and risk actually seeing something.

Taehyung helps you with the equipment, handing you what you need. When you’re done and ready to go in, he takes a few steps closer with you—and then he freezes. You figure that’s just where he’s choosing to stay until you come back out, and continue into the room.

The second your foot crosses the threshold, the first thing that registers is how much cooler it suddenly is. The dimming torchlight reveals that the room isn’t that big at all, but in the absence of light it feels like the blanket of cold, lurking darkness stretches on endlessly. It almost feels like it has a certain sense of gravity, pulling you in, making you dig your heels in on instinct.

Oh, you don’t like this. Is it too late to bail?

“y/n…” Taehyung says your name softly, and you hear it, but dismiss it soon after when you realise he’s probably about to try and spook you. You force your feet to take another few steps in, when Taehyung’s voice sounds out once more.

“y/n, wait—”

There is a chord of something different in his voice, something you haven’t heard in him before, that makes you pause and turn around; even if it means turning your back to the rest of the room and the abyss it holds.

Facing him for a moment, you catch sight of an indiscernible expression possessing his features—his brows are furrowed, mouth parted as though he is about to speak once more. He seems to be about to do just that when he catches sight of something over your shoulder and his eyes shoot wide.

In that instant, you get the very sudden, very strong feeling that something awful is about to happen, and you want to run.

You don’t get an answer or even a clue as to what he’s looking at. Taehyung begins to move, but he isn’t fast enough to beat the door that flies closed, a sudden and loud SLAM announcing the new barrier between you. It hasn’t even registered yet but your heart instantly stills and drops as a sheet of icy air plummets over you. For a moment, it is still, and silent.

And then, the worst experience of your life begins.

Legs that had begun carrying you back on instinct, stumbling over nameless items you didn’t get a chance to see, lock and freeze at the stark and unmistakeable sensation of a hand gripping tight around your bicep. It tightens, and then you’re being dragged, pushed back with your feet scrambling across the floor, until your back meets icy wall with enough force to make you cry out in pain. Distantly, you swear there is banging on the door, but you can barely hear it over the sound of your own pulse drumming erratically in your ears.

Your breath comes in clouds, the flickering torchlight allowing you to glimpse it before the bulb bursts and you have only the moonlight filtering through a boarded window to aid you. You almost wish that you didn’t, though—

Because in the very next second, something begins to materialise in front of you, as though being formed from smoke and pools of shadow cast across the room. A long, lean body with inhuman proportions, one of the spindly limbs ending in a taloned hand responsible for the grip on your arm. A smell so foul it makes nausea roil in your abdomen crosses your nose, and the being finishes taking shape before you in the span of a saccade. Its skin is like shadow incarnate, dripping like tar into sticky pools on the floor and burning like ice where it makes contact with your own. Spikes and disfigured lumps litter its form, but you think that the most terrifying part must be its face.

For all you can see of it is a crown of curled, gnarled horns, gleaming white eyes and a mouth full of teeth half the size of one of your fingers.

Half a scream makes its way out of your mouth before the demon hisses, the sound immediately making you clam up. “Shut up.”

The fear that clenches around your heart in a vice grip is one you’ve never felt before, your knees feeling like jelly.

“It’s been so long since any human has dared come here,” the demon says, and it’s like he is grating along the nerves at the back of your neck with every word, plucking them one by one in a curdling tune. “You’ve been so fun to play with. Souls always taste better once they have been soaked in fear.”

Your eyes had been transfixed in terror on the way the demon’s teeth shifted with each word, drool slipping down some fangs and dropping by your feet. You don’t know if you would have snapped out of it were it not for the sudden increase in banging on the door, growing louder and louder with each second. You don’t know if it is the handle making that rattling noise or your teeth and you don’t have the mental capacity to dwell.

When his words sink in a split second after they enter the air, its as though you make a subconscious decision that differs from the rest you’ve made tonight. You’re cornered now, and you can’t run—your brain chooses fight so you may have a chance to flee.

“Get off me!” You lurch suddenly, legs lashing out and kicking even as you can barely control them. “GET OFF ME!”

Your boots meet his legs harshly, and it probably hurts you more than him, but when you suddenly recall the half-empty bottle of blessed water in your pocket and reach for it, throwing it across his face, its like you’ve poured a bucket of pure acid over his skin. Steam billows and smoke follows, and the demon lets out a scream so sharp you swear your eardrums burst, but in no way does the pain weaken his grip on you.

“YOU BITCH.” The demon howls, eyes clenched shut and free hand lashing blindly to claw at you. “I’LL RIP YOUR HEART OUT AND EAT IT BEFORE YOUR EYES, YOU—”

It’s like you’re suspended, floating in time as his claws swipe and almost miss you, but manage to slice lightly across your collarbone—it’s so close to your neck that you can’t help but scream, kicking harder. The demons eyes fly open and narrow on you, its hand raising again. Your eyes clench shut on instinct, not wanting to watch his claws sink as far into your skin as they were meant to the first time. It’s in the moment after that there is a familiar splintering sound, and the grip on your arm is wrought free.

With nothing substantial holding you up anymore, your knees collapse and you sink to the floor, eyes flying open upon impact that you know is painful but can’t quite feel. What you see is something you definitely aren’t ready for—it takes a moment for it to sink in.

Unlike the scene that your eyes had closed to, the demon is no longer the only other being in the room—there is something else, body shrouded in shadow yet cast in an odd glow that shifts and warps like oil beneath sunlight. At first, you think that it’s giant and hulking in mass, but you quickly realise that the shapes protruding from its back aren’t lumps or anything of the like, but large, leathery wings. They flick and twitch, before shooting out and spanning at an incredible length as the new creature shoots forward. The demon that was so close to you before is now on the other side of the room, slammed into the wall by a hand around its throat that glows with heat, a startling juxtaposition to the cold still sinking into your skin.

The demon isn’t about to go without a fight; it surges back, limbs lashing, but the new creature is too strong and pinned to the wall the pitiful being stays, screaming in rage. Curled horns stem from the newcomer’s head, catching moonlight on the ridges and gleaming as it turns its head and glances over its shoulder, at you. Instantly, your heart freezes once more, except this time in a different sort of terror.

Because you know the face looking at you right now— it’s Taehyung.

It’s not the same as the face that usually greets you—there are those inky horns curling from his head, his ashy hair is tinged red on the ends, and its longer than you remember. Beneath the eyes boring into you are black markings like upside down teardrops, and the irises themselves are different shades of violet and gold, split down the middle by a slitted pupil. There is a fang peaking out from the corner of his lips, and the tips of his ears have elongated and angled. The curves and lines of his face resemble the Taehyung you know, and this should give you some modicum of comfort, but as you continue to look at him it becomes more than apparent that this Taehyung…

This Taehyung isn’t the Taehyung you know.

There’s a certain amount of dissonance within you, warring reactions to the information currently overloading your brain, but above all else you find yourself almost hysterically, irrationally scared. You can’t move, can’t seem to breathe as the creature— Taehyung? — releases you from its gaze and turns back to the demon struggling in its grasp. Breath rushes back into your lungs and you have enough presence of mind to attempt to struggle back to your feet. It’s hard, though, with your gaze transfixed on the scene before you.

“I should have known there was something behind the stench of this place,” Taehyung’s voice as he speaks is a mere echo of what you’re used to, a guttural growl strung with rage that reverberates straight through your chest. With each word that leaves him, there is a glow that builds around his form, like St. Elmo’s fire. The demon quickly goes from enraged to terrified, and the observation has your own gut dropping. “But I didn’t think whatever it was would be stupid enough to try anything. You shouldn’t have come out tonight, you shouldn’t have laid your hands on her.”

The demons shrieking becomes diplophonic, tune changing from angry cries to desperate, pitiful pleas.

“I did not know it was you, lord! I did not know! I would not have touched the lord’s human if I had known!”

“Shut up!” Taehyung commands, wings flaring. The demon instantly obeys, but at the sight of Taehyung’s free hand rising with what you quickly realise is a dagger, coated in flames, it returns to begging and pleading with renewed vigour.

“No, lord, please! I did not know! Please do not slay me! I will leave, I will return to the underworld! I will never near your human again! Please, lord, do not—”

“You cut her,” Taehyung hisses, fury coating each syllable. “I cannot leave you alive.”

And then, faster than you can blink, the blade is embedded in the demon’s dripping abdomen, and it takes all of a split second for its to become engulfed in the same cerulean flames that coated it. Taehyung’s grip around its neck disappears and the demon crumples to the ground with a horrid, blood-curdling scream so piercing it makes your vision blur and head throb. Blearily, you watch as the demon twists and curls, warping across the ground before the flames flare and heat washes over your skin.

And then it is gone, the scream it left behind still echoing in the air until the only thing left ringing in your ears is your own hurried, frantic heartbeat.

The silence that follows is startling, the two of you seeming to be processing exactly what just happened. You’re going to need more than a moment to properly do so, but the adrenaline rush from this near-death experience seems to be propelling you back to clear thought sooner than anticipated. Without the demon here, it’s almost as though nothing happened and you were imagining the whole thing. But then, your gaze returns to Taehyung; the very same Taehyung that stands across the room and resembles the demon more in his inhuman features than he does your usual Taehyung.

There are still the slightest tendrils of fear clinging to your heart, and where you stand you can feel the weakness of your knees—when Taehyung turns around, against the protests of a distant part of you, you can feel those tendrils flare up and clench tightly.

There is still rage rolling off his form, and you can almost sense the heat of it from where you stand with the absence of the earlier chill in the room. His expression is furious as he turns to face you, taking a step forward. Unable to help it considering what you just went through, you flinch and press to the wall, the slightest sound escaping your mouth despite your best efforts to squash it.

Immediately, Taehyung freezes. Those mismatched eyes are boring into you again but this time they’re wide, concerned as he takes in your reaction and the condition you’re in, gaze zeroing in on your collarbones. In this moment, you’re scared of him, and you can see the second he realises it. Something indiscernible yet that ripples akin to sadness pools behind his iris’, and he braves another step closer, hand outstretched—a hand with talons just like the ones that had cut you before.

“Don’t!” You feel like it’s not even you talking right now, but you can’t stop the words from coming out. So much happened, too much happened, you can feel yourself beginning to freak out as your breath begins to come quicker and quicker. You haven’t had time to process this. For the third time tonight, you feel like a cornered animal. Except, you never would have thought that it would be at the hands of Taehyung.

“D-don’t come closer! Don’t—Just… don’t…”

Your gaze hasn’t left him and you can see, almost feel the way he recoils at each word; it’s like you’ve punched him in the gut. You can’t stop though, you’re so overwhelmed and you so suddenly and intensely want to leave—you need to leave. You don’t even realise you’re shaking until you take a step, entire form trembling. Taehyung doesn’t move, eyes following you, his brows furrowed and mouth parted as though he wishes to say something. He doesn’t, though. He watches you with a sense of resignation. The sight of him still in that form, standing so painfully and undeniably there, is what pushes you over the threshold.

All of a sudden it’s too much—too much, too much, too much— and you can’t hold it back anymore. Chin wobbling, you don’t even think about the equipment or anything you’ve dropped, you can’t bring yourself to think of Taehyung, you just go. In a blur, you’re out of the room, down the creaking, rotting stairs—you’re stumbling in the fear taking hold of you but there’s something else there, a bittersweet tinge of hurt, the tiniest hint of betrayal. You don’t have time to pick it apart.

Before you know it you’ve made it down the stairs, through the ruined hall and out of the church. The night is silent, not even a cricket daring to chirp in the wake of whatever just happened. It makes you feel alone, but not the kind that you’re trying to be so desperately right now. You can’t chase the feeling away, though, as you dash for the car and start it up.

As you floor it out of there and tear onto the main highway, breath still coming quick and uneven, you can’t chase the memory of Taehyung’s crestfallen gaze as it followed you out the door, either.

a/n: pls let me know what you think and if u liked it interact with a like or rb!! It helps me know how many people have read it and how many enjoy it & how well its received!!! thank u for reading!!!

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latinozevran-archive · 3 years

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okay finally making thorough post abt sgrs ending for just future reference for anyone if they are interested in watching bc i do think its important to know first.. tried to keep it as spoiler free as possible other than the obvious and sry for the length kajshdf but anyways i am going to put the rest under a read more ♥️ and cw incest mention

ok i am gonna try to make this as comprehensible as possible i have had a few stabs at this already w friends so hope this goes well bc there's a lot to unpack abt this but the first thing to understand abt it is 1) imo the twist u are given is ABSOLUTELY a fucking lie and given the amnt of times i have now seen the show i feel very confident in this, and 2) it is a very easy scene to note the start of and then skip which i will mention @ the end..

all right so no stalling getting into the twist itself and then uh. explaining after. but first assuming no context for what sgrs is about:

the story is largely abt like family what it means etc following the course of one mans life! he has an adopted daughter child of ex-beard and ex-man he was in love with his whole life who passed away and they have a very complicated difficult relationship and a major part of s2 is about them beginning to repair that as they both get older and what happens when she has a baby and he actually finds himself unexpectedly loving being a grandfather and it being like his second chance to have a child in his life and treat him with the warmth and kindness he failed to show his daughter when she was younger but also just spoiling him rotten in true grandparent fashion askfhksndbf... it is all very sweet and moving. thing abt mr baby is his mom has him on her own no father in the picture it provides at one point an explanation for who the bio father may be with somewhat of an implication that may not rly be who it is i am so sorry if you can already see where this is going promise there will only be like one more sentence of this and then i can explain AKSJD.

THUS the mind numbingly evil bit is a side character at the end going up to the daughter years after protags death and going wink wink u know all this time i must admit i had a theory abt who your sons father was.. and this evil little man rly suggests the protag was her sons father like jfc and of course bc the authors evil she rly left it w konatsu just going well >:) whos to say. i am never gonna answer that question tho.

OKAY SO ONTO LIKE CONTEXT bc i had none when i first watched and i will say this sent me spiraling a bit my god my god.

FIRST THING. i do wanna explain why its a plain ass lie but i also need to clarify in no way is it excusable as a writing decision.. the author is a supremely fucked up woman who i do not intend to excuse for anything she has written esp this and my take on her um. decision making here was more like a fucked up reference to evil tropes than utilizing them herself bc i wouldnt put it past her to have done that frankly but it wouldve had to simply be a different story than it was. absolutely no quarrel w someone who doesnt want to watch it given all this like it really is... yeah. also no need to touch the manga the animes better anyways lol

2) ok if u are still reading... i think context for who is saying what is very important it is a man who you are consistently told has had it out for the protagonist for YEARS and really is shown to have something just a little off about him the evil shit he will sometimes say out of the blue building up to this... he is NOT framed as a reliable source of info. secondly like konatsu truly is his daughter man her freakishly evasive reply if it were abt anything else truly would be funny i hate it here

3) i am not gonna bother listing all the reasons it is false bc it would be way too long unless anyone wants 2 ask me further but highlight reel how much of the story is abt their parent child dynamics, the fact that he was.. in love w her father and helped raise her a bit with him even when he was still alive, just about every other thing abt their relationship and also his relationship with his grandson, etc... and also the fact that lying and shaping narratives of a life is um . a major element of the story and for someone to kind of pathetically attempt to do that after kikuhiko's death is definitely intentional

4) LASTLY it is tempting to think the story is in 2 parts bc s1 feels like such an isolated story u would think part 2 is maybe only partially related but i promise it isnt and changes the meaning of season 1 fairly significantly so if this seems like it is something u are up for i would definitely recommend watching them both season 2 really is very good otherwise and also wanna stress this is not like. the Ending of sgrs this is an individual scene in the last episode that is upsetting enough to overshadow everything else if ur unprepared but in the grand scheme of things far from the most important plot thing going on

AND THE THING I PROMISED UP TOP: if u actually do watch, there is a scene that starts w konatsu and higuchi sitting down having a conversation, nothing super important happens u can either skip the conversation altogether or specifically once they are alone bc the kids are there for a bit, and thats it :)

THANK U FOR READING... HAVE FUN STAY SAFE

#o #shouwa genroku rakugo shinjuu #HI SORRY HERE IT IS #HOPEFULLY THIS IS ALL LIKE. LEGIBLE. MONSTER OF A POST THAT IT IS #ik i am posting this at this hr i might rb it tmo akshdkfkfbf

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rigelmejo · 3 years

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I don’t know if this extensive reading has helped but I FEEL like it has helped lol. When I started 小王子 how long was it taking a chapter? Just under 5 minutes per page right?

Well I know I got faster than that. Today my Internet was down so while waiting for things to restart and load and stuff I read like 5 chapters of the book. I read them out loud (just a handful of words I didn’t know how to say out loud). I was reading at slow but steady speaking speed so that’s still faster than 5 minutes a page. Ok I just timed myself to test it and I am taking 2 minutes to read a page, and I would guess 3 minutes if I slowed down to consider a bit more on the sayings/less familiar hanzi. That’s better then the 4.5-5 minutes I started at! So I must’ve picked up some words from this book. So I would say... yes a little extensive reading seems to be helping reading speed. Also! I have 16 pages to go! This story is so short. It is sweet and odd and so human though maybe that is why it’s remained loved like Alice in wonderland. (Fun fact I also read 2 chapters of Alice in wonderland in French this week and it is just as bizarre to me as when I watched the movie as a kid, But I do think in book form if I were 6-9 I would’ve related more since Alice’s POV in the story is pretty relatable... and when I was a kid and watched the movie I just did Not relate aha).

Anyway from 4.5 minutes to 2-3 is great!

What I did with graded readers/extensive reading this month, that I am hoping is why this helped:

Read graded reader (butterfly lovers, Pleco, 500 unique characters) - not hard but very satisfying to finish it and read it quickly when it used to take me 40 minutes to read a few Pleco pages of it). So that was a few thousand words comprehensible extensive reading.

Read another graded reader, chinese short stories. While I think it’s good as a study companion, a lot of very specific words which I tripped on (antique coins, being scammed). Which was fine I just think it was not the funnest reading material? It was mostly graded reader though I had to look up a couple handfuls of words.

Read a little of my 500 character Sinolingua reader (2 stories). Also read through the back of it which has all the words in the book, and the HSK 3 words included in the book - I knew all those words but it was a nice refresher. Mostly it was just nice to see how much easier these stories were to read compared to when I first got the book. (I would recommend these books as readers if you want something for adults and in short segments, the short stories are simplified prose from established authors, and the quality of storytelling can therefore be felt a bit. They feel more meaningful as short stories and therefore enjoyable if a bit basic (since they’ve been simplified). You can tell though compared to the Chinese Short Stories book above, which was probably written by a teacher/language textbook maker and not necessarily a literary writer.

Read mandarin companion journey to the center of the earth. 450 unique characters. Another easy read that felt really nice, compared to when I first read a mandarin companion book.

Started reading 小王子 on paper, so extensive reading with little word look up (I’ve looked up less than 10 words so far when reading on paper - notable words I looked up because it frustrated me I didn’t know them: 悲伤，惊奇，惊讶，匆匆，逐渐，观察，测试 a lot of these because I know I’ve seen these Hanzi before I just never remember specifically like 惊讶惊奇 what the difference is or guan pronunciation 观察 or 测 I tend to forget when it’s not in 测试). I started reading it because it’s supposed to have around 2000 unique words (so not too many), and be pretty easy reading level (so a bit easier than 活着 which is the novel Chinese learners often get recommended). Basically, this was the extensive reading book choice step up from graded readers - it’s got a bit over 1000 unique hanzi, not an overwhelming amount of unique words, but it is not a graded reader so if it goes well I could jump to other stuff of similar or slightly less “ease” while still having it feel this “easy” to read (and hopefully take days to read instead of months).

Started reading 笑猫日记之会唱歌的猫 in Pleco, so clicking words I didn’t know (though this one only had a word or two a page unknown). I saw it recommended on a Chinese learners form as easy reading material after graded readers, and I agree! It’s very easy to read! I could understand it without clicking words but it is nice to understand fully since it’s convenient, and look up the pronunciation etc. I read 8 chapters so far. I also listened to a few chapters after reading, but idk if it helped at all.

15 ish chapters into 小王子 I found it online and reread 4 chapters with a click dictionary for unknown words. It was nice just clarifying the word pronunciations and fuzzy bits, also the online translation was different so seeing the difference on how they decided to word it (mostly just seeing synonyms used instead or different sayings for certain parts). I listened to a couple chapters audio afterwards, idk if it helped.

Unrelated, but I did listen read to 5 chapters of 默读 mainly following the Chinese text so, idk if that would’ve helped my overall reading at all (I want to say no but I did notice in general much more general gist comprehension of lines in MoDu then last time I read a couple months ago - although listening to the audio and being able to glance at the English for unknown words of course also makes things much more comprehensible that’s why listen reading method is the structure it is ahh).

Listened to some audio for 小王子 during work because I happened to find it, for chapters 1-4. Just playing in the background. I looked at the text while listening to one to match pronunciation to some words, since the chapter was like 5 minutes long in listening. Again interesting to see their word choice since It was yet another translation (I think I like my print books translation best).

Back to reading print 小王子 today and I think the audio beforehand did help me with being able to pronounce more of what I’m reading. Read like 4 chapters in one short break, another 3 chapters just now. While I don’t know how well the reading speed will translate to reading harder stuff like guardian (which was oddly also taking me 5 minutes a page? Why is that my default speed?), my reading speed doing extensive reading on “stuff mostly easy” to me has increased noticeably. (Fun fact when I read English technical text like psychology and physics books and educational etc I think my reading speed is it’s like 10-20 pages an hour... I do not read non fiction very fast).

So anyway, my goal with extensive reading easy material this month was to see if I could push UP what my starting base level “easy” material is.

What I used to do is practice with an “easier text” (which was still pretty hard for me tbh) and then once it got bearable (took 30-40 minutes to read instead of an hour), I’d switch to a harder material that took me 1-1.5 hours to read. Then when I’d burn out, I’d go back to that “easier” text until it got easier at 20-30 minutes to read. Then I might pick a harder base reading text (usually what used to be the hard one that would now take 30-40 minutes to read), and find something even harder. Lately that has been 寒舍 as my “easier” text, taking 20-30 minutes a full chapter (2 mini chapters), and 天涯客 as my harder text at 30-40ish minutes a chapter. And yes, at this point I could pick something harder but they’re both hard enough I was just sticking to them. You might notice none of these were actually easy for me though, my actual base easy materials were still graded readers, and manhua. So I want to push that upward until there’s some “easier” material below 寒舍 that I can be built up to and read easily Without a dictionary aid. So I can have a solid base that’s reliable. Hanshe is an “easier” practice material but it’s not necessarily something I can read extensively with ease. But if I keep pushing up the difficulty of what I can extensively read, bit by bit, I will eventually Get it to hanshe (or a little below it realistically but still firmly in regular-webnovel-exist at the reading level). I will not get faster at reading these hard things unless my base level of reading is both higher and already a reasonable speed. (I’m guessing anyway??).

Well happy to say this plan is working. I guess the advice articles I read were right somewhat. I knew graded readers could drag you from 0 beginner to some reading ability, since It’s what I originally did with Chinese (and even French sort of). But I was very quick about it because I’m impatient and easily bored by too-easy things apparently lol. I read 1 mandarin companion graded reader (the 300 word Sherlock Holmes one), a couple chapters of 2 other graded readers, then started on a random webnovel (the bl 他们的故事 which somehow thankfully is on the easier end for novels) and looked a lot of words up to get through. But I did not think to try to “match my reading level and increase gradually” in regular novels, even tho if it works for graded readers it probably works for regular stuff!

And in school in our native languages, that’s why our elementary schools had libraries, and we read books for our age group and the chapter books we read were much easier than what we read as teens or what adults read! I remember bunnicula and cat wings those were not hard but they were chapter stories. Then I remember Dracula and hg wells and mark Twain in high school and how they felt a bit Hard despite me being one of those kids rated at college reading level in 3rd grade. Now as a kid? I had the same tendencies I do now, so I’m not surprised I always jump in the deep end and Try to read hard stuff (and it must help since it’s part of why I got good at reading my native language, and definitely has helped my chinese and french). I would be like 7 and pick up a mitchner novel of My dad’s (is that the author of stuff like Alaska etc?) and I’d read a couple pages and feel drained trying to follow it and give up. Or the huge The Witching Hour by Anne Rice, or HG Wells History of the world, or the biography of benjamin Franklin, I never finished any of these or had any idea what they were about I just got curious and opened up a couple pages every now and then. Yet somehow that must’ve been part of why my reading level so early on was considered “good”? I’m guessing.

But I wasn’t actually good at reading in the sense of doing it often or fast until my dad started reading to me at like age 8-9 I think it was Harry Potter which at the time worked out since the books got harder each time, and also my dad reads out loud slow just like he tutors slow lol so eventually I read myself so he’d stop boring me (I love him and loved the bonding time I’m sure but truly i just apparently always liked jumping in the deep end). Eventually his strategy Im guessing to get me to read slightly harder stuff each time worked, because by books 4-5 I read each in 2 days. He was so impressed because before that I couldn’t read long books and not fast, and that’s when he thought I got good at reading. Looking back lol it’s actually so funny? How much work he had to do to get me to read and how what ended up working I still sort of do now. He started me on Hop on Pop as a kid as my first book cause One Fish Two Fish bored me and I thought jumping on a dad was funny, and he did that just to do something to get me to pick up a book lol. Then he got me that digital book toy they had back then where you had a real book but it was in a digital holder and if you clicked words with the pen it read them out loud. Literally how I learn Chinese now... he really got me digital equivalent to graded readers back then ToT. And just like as a kid I still pick up stuff way beyond my level and just read a couple pages at random. It’s just. Kind of funny to me how much I didn’t really change that much after all ToT

BACK ON THE TOPIC OF APRIL PROGRESS lol ok. I listened to Guardian ep 1 today just in the background so no subs etc and I was Floored by how much I completely understood. I’ve been listening to SpoonFed chinese again (15 audios listened to this month), but I’m floored if it made a difference?! Since I was mostly listening in the background not focusing and missing some stuff. Idk if it made a difference, or listening reading method just that 1.5 hours I did this month or what. Or if my listening skills have been this decent I just don’t test them since I usually watch shows with hard Chinese subs (and read the subs), or watch shows with English subs. So like. Anyway mejo back in what was it august 2019 when I started studying? Would be so happy. Back when I started watching guardian and only knew ni hao and xie xie and zai jian.

Also I can’t even remember now if I did extensive reading guardian (after reading the English translation), this month too or just last month. But I’m sure that helped and I should test general reading sometime of a priest novel. Like.. literally what kicked off the “I should extensive read more” this month is me Desperately wanting to kick up my reading speed after the horrific 25 page guardian chapter I read that took like 1.5 hours.

#rant #april #april progress #reading progress #to be honest tho truly I’m really happy with my chinese progress so far #it has yeah sooooo much farther to go #and communication wise I’m ahhhh not not anywhere much yet #but listening and reading are already significantly further than Japanese was at 2.5 years #and honestly ‘as slow progress as Japanese’ was my assumption and goal when I started #so I figured I would not read this good for 4 years at least #so just under 2 years? I’m pretty amazed

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birdyisanightingale · 3 years

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THT S4 Predictions: Brazil Trailer

Back by popular demand, I’m going to be doing a comprehensive set of predictions based on the Brazilian S4 trailer which has additional footage to the main one. If you want to watch it, here’s the link: https://www.handmaidsbrasil.com/2020/12/exclusivo-assista-ao-novo-teaser-legendado-da-quarta-temporada-de-tht.html

SPOILER ALERT!! Please be aware that if you keep reading there will be major S3 spoilers and potentially some S4 ones too!!

First up, we appear to have some sort of scene where June has been captured by eyes (or someone posing as the eyes - I’ll come back to this) . I think this must be at least an episode or so in because she seems to be walking fine and she doesn’t have any obvious injuries (she was basically dead at the end of S3). Another good sign is that she appears to be alone, so if she has indeed been taken by the eyes, they haven’t managed to capture all of the ‘magnificent seven’ (this is the new term being given to the fugitive handmaids from the end of the S3 Finale).

However, considering the remote location, it looks likely that this scene may be an attempted execution of June. I know what you’re thinking, this is Gilead - if they want to kill you they won’t bother making it private, they’ll make an example out of you and leave you hanging on a wall until you rot. But think about it - at this point, killing June will not be an example, the resistance in all its different forms has gotten too big for that. If they kill June now, they will only be creating a martyr, and the only way to avoid that is to kill her secretly and get rid of all the evidence so no one knows if she’s dead or missing or maybe even escaped to Canada without telling anyone - a great way to crack a resistance is to take away the element of trust! Anyway that’s why they’d make her execution a quiet affair.

But here’s why I think it was only made to look like the yes have taken her. Judging from the location and costumes (although admittedly costume variety is particularly limited in this show), while this is later in the trailer, it looks like a continuation of the same scene. It looks almost like Nick knew that June was in a situation where either he intervened or she was captured (or worse) for real. He obviously still has to make it look somewhat legit because he’s a commander now and he needs to keep good standing to be able to help June and Mayday (not to mention, staying off the wall).

I think this element of Nick being an asset to Mayday will be explored quite a lot this season, and beyond. Nick’s character development is particularly interesting because we’ve almost had a different Nick every season, but the writers are still finding new ways to surprise us with new dimensions to his character. In S1 we had ‘Nick the Eye’ who was battling this sense of duty and obligation that he had never bothered to question whether he agreed with his orders or not, with finally finding a reason to question those orders - June. Then in S2 when he’d finally gotten to a point where he’d chosen June over duty, we saw ‘Nick the husband’. We know from his flashbacks that he had a religious background before Gilead so he’s had ‘the sanctity of marriage’ instilled in him from a young age. So he’s somehow trying to reconcile his new role as a husband with his love for another woman who’s carrying his baby. And then we get the (admittedly infrequent) S3 ‘Nick the Soldier’ who we know absolutely nothing about, and how dominate that side of him is. Not dominant enough and Nick won’t have enough influence to be useful to Mayday, too dominant and he could potentially betray Mayday... we’ll have to wait and see...

“You can’t save her; some women don’t want to be saved.” Oof, literal chills. I’m really looking forward to this character dynamic. Both are commanders, both helped to create Gilead and regret it, and both have a connection to June. I know this is scene is talking about Nick wanting to save June and probably get her to Canada, but I can’t help thinking that the writers specifically wrote this line to have an underlying tone about Eleanor as her death will still be very fresh for Lawrence.

This isn’t a prediction so much as a musing but I really hope there gets to be some sort of interaction between June and Lawrence about the circumstances of her suicide. Every time I watch the funeral scene where June and Lawrence just look at each other, I get more and more sure that Lawrence knows that something else happened that she’s not saying - he’s a smart man, after all.

Maybe this scene is a continuation of the ‘secluded forest/potential eyes’ scene. He could have asked her to stop “playing handmaid commander” (I believe this was a direct quote from S2, tell me if I’m wrong) and go with him to Canada and she refuses, hence why he goes to see Lawrence. That would fit the potential timeline as Lawrence would have to have been released from the interrogation scenes we saw in the main trailer, and we’ve established that the forest seven must be at least a few episodes in.

Speaking of rebel handmaid shenanigans, this looks fun! June is heard saying “Where we’re going isn’t safe.” and Mrs. Keyes (Mckenna Grace) replies “It’s not safe anywhere!”. I mean, straight off the bat, it looks like we’re going to get one hell of a performance from Mckenna Grace who seems insanely talented for 14! We’ve had it teased to us by different producers and show runners that Mrs. Keyes will be the confident teenage wife of a commander, who helps to facilitate the resistance. And, I mean being a child bride is horrifying so I can understand why she’s willing to help!

As where they’re actually going, I’m thinking that it’s got to be another ‘attack’ by Mayday. What that will look like is hard to say - another Lillie Fuller style bomb seems unlikely since the bomb-maker was moved and it doesn’t really seem like June’s style anyway (she’d rather go for the targeted kill without Handmaid/Martha casualties), and all remaining kids in Gilead will be under heavy security after the S3 Finale. My money would be on a plan to get out Handmaids/Marthas - in the originally trailer we hear June saying “These women deserve to be helped” which supports that theory. I think her efforts will particularly focus on handmaids since a lot of the kids they got out were kids of handmaids before Gilead so she’ll want them to be reunited where it’s safe to do so.

Right - my guess is that this scene must be following whatever Mayday attempted (successful or not...). Remember in S2 when June was looking at all the Marthas who had been hanged and she said that they had been hanged for being heretics and not for being part of resistance because officially there was no resistance because there was nothing to resist? I think what we’re seeing is June has been caught and she’s being given one of the hanging bags with the symbols on to say why they were hung, pre-execution (which I assume June will somehow survive - my guess would be Nick gets her out before the execution). June’s bag has a cross because she’ll be hung for being a heretic, because officially there is no resistance - although this seems like a bit of a stretch of a story even for Gilead considering what Mayday just pulled off. It’ll be interesting to see the story that Gilead do use to explain what happened.

Another thing I just want to quickly touch on is the costume - mustard yellow with a red strip. It’s a bit out there but I’m putting my money on ‘death row uniform’ - here’s why: the colours of the uniforms all have biblical connotations e.g. the wives where blue because it symbolises the purity of the Virgin Mary, handmaids wear read to symbolise Mary Magdalene who is a redeemed sinner etc. In Revelation (final book of the bible that talks of the end of the world and second coming etc.) the four horsemen (bringers of the end of the world) are described as being yellow as sulphur and red as fire. So the colours yellow and red would symbolise ‘the end’ i.e. a salvaging/execution. This is purely speculation so make sure to comment your thoughts!

Now the opinion you’re probably all here for - Hannah. In the shots shown in the trailer, she can be seen in some sort of glass prison with a doll, and she draws an eye in the dust. There’s been a lot of speculation about the context of this scene with the overriding theory being that this scene is a dream. In some ways this makes sense: June is in the yellow costume but she doesn’t have the same injuries shown in the other footage where she’s wearing this costume (although this could just be that this scene is slightly before that scene), the idea of a glass prison doesn’t really make sense in relation to what all the other cells look like that we’ve seen, the eye that Hannah draws is just way too precise for a drawing done with dust let alone a drawing done by a child, the idea of Hannah drawing an eye is also a strange drawing for a child whereas June would dream that because of the connotations to Gilead spies and ‘under his eye’. Not to mention it makes sense that June would be dreaming about Hannah being trapped as she’s been spending time with Mrs. Keyes who is a child bride close to Hannah’s age.

In all honesty, I don’t really know what I believe. I think that placing Hannah in a glass prison and allowing June to see her and be centimetres away but not be able to get to her is a very Gilead style power trip. Gilead officials know that the only reason that she’s still in Gilead is because of Hannah so it makes sense for them to hold her in a place that is blatantly obvious to June so she can be used as leverage in stopping an on-coming attack. Gilead pretend to be all about protecting children but we all know they’re not above cutting off a limb or two - as long as she still has a working uterus. So if this isn’t a dream and Hannah is being used as leverage, this puts a spanner in the works on my death row theory because you only keep leverage on someone if you need them for something and they won’t kill her if they still need her for something. There’s a number of things that could be - stopping an on-coming attack, intel on Mayday and the Martha network, maybe they’re blackmailing her to tell Luke to stand down on trying to get Fred and Serena convicted?

Anyway.... that was A LOT. Please reply to this post with any ideas you have or to prove me wrong - this is all we have till S4 drops!

Blessed be the fruit loops, bitches x

#thtedit #thehandmaidstaleedit #the handmaids tale spoilers #the handmaid's tale #hannah tht #moira tht #janine tht #June Osborne #nick x june #nick blaine #june tht #predictions #spoiler #thehandmaidstaleonhulu #blessed be the squad #blessed be the fruit loops #under his eye #nolite te bastardes carborundorum #mckenna grace

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agent-cupcake · 4 years

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Beastie and the Bard

Fire Emblem Three Houses - Dimitri x Reader (Chapter 5)

7,640 words later, Symphony Vittoria has drawn to an end. I’m so tired of working on it and want to move on, so just gonna drop it here and hope for the best. Valse di Amour is next, but I might work on something else for a bit. We’ll see... Hope you enjoy <3

Symphony Vittoria Opus 3, No. 3 III. Minuet

The late fall sun was hot on the crown of your head, doing nothing to help with the overwhelming heat of exertion that washed over you as you climbed off of Siobhan’s back and onto your own jelly-like legs. If not for the helpful Church aid, you likely would have fallen right then and there, collapsed onto the ground in a victorious puddle of sore muscles and elation.

“We won!” you said as you stumbled, catching yourself just in time, a goofy grin on your face.

“Congratulations,” the armorer said, her voice dry as she helped relieve you of your weapons and get your face mopped up of sweat. She said something else, but your ears were ringing. There was so much noise around you, the organized chaos of hundreds of people doing hundreds of different things. Victory, it all sounded like victory. Water was given to you, the armor fitted with straps to keep you in the saddle pulled away and leaving you lighter.

And then you left, far too excited to stop yourself. If anyone called for you to stop, you didn’t hear, slipping through the crowd on light feet.

Pegasi were not horses, but the two were grouped together more often than not. Perhaps the elegant Siobhan would be unhappy with the generalization, but you were glad for it as you made your way through the busy staging area. At some point in the fight, Dimitri had dismounted from his favored steed, but he always returned for the destrier. Not only out of affection for the beast, but out of fear that its fractious nature would harm those who came to collect him. In that respect, the two were well suited. And easy to find.

“Dimitri!” you called, rushing towards him as soon as you spotted his familiar blue cape. Both he and the magnificent destrier turned to your approach, an unfriendly set of dark eyes and an interested pair of blue. “That was amazing!” you told him, excitement launching you into a rant before your feet even stilled. “You should have seen the look on Hubert’s face when I got him out, he was so mad! If Seteth hadn’t called it I think he would have attacked you when you were fighting Edelgard. I’m glad he didn’t, obviously, but don’t worry, I would have protected you. Nobody would have been able to interfere with that fight… Gosh, it was so cool! Edelgard was waving that giant axe around like it was nothing, but you swiped in with your lance and the both of you moved so fast! It was intense! And now…” You laughed giddily, out of breath and your thoughts disorganized. “I’m just so happy that we won!”

“I feel the same,” Dimitri responded, his smile glowing. “Although... I cannot fathom from where you gain all this energy.” He laughed, shaking his head. “Don’t you ever grow weary?”

“Maybe… Sometimes,” you replied with a breathless laugh. “But... I’ll get ahold of myself.” More as an act than anything, you pulled in an exaggerated breath, holding yourself still from the jittery shake of adrenaline.

“Oh no, that wasn’t a critique!” Dimitri told you. “Your spirit is admirable. It reminds me of something I feel I had nearly forgotten. And in any case, I owe you for taking out Hubert. For a moment there I was afraid I was done for by rushing in so recklessly.”

“Or maybe you just knew that I’d be right behind you,” you joked. “By now you must know that you can always count on that.”

“Is that so?” Dimitri asked, one of his eyebrows raising in a playful way.

“Sure,” you answered easily. “Still, I do like the idea of having you owe me. I guess I’ll have to think of a really good favor, huh?”

“Whatever you want,” Dimitri responded, his voice equally as earnest as it was teasing. How he managed such a balance, you didn’t know.

Then, without thinking, you asked, “What if I asked for you to kiss me?”

The brazen words were playful, your inhibitions melted beneath the swell of glory. If you were in your right mind, certainly you would have restrained yourself. Especially because the situation wasn’t romantic. At all. The two of you were sweaty and hot from a recently won battle and surrounded by tired animals, tired students, and frantic grooms. The air stank of all three groups, as well as the dissipating oily smoke of magic fire. The situation wasn’t suited to the dizzy elation you felt, or the feeling tightening in your sore abdomen. But it was like you were alight, floating. Full of affection and joy and glory.

Dimitri blushed before you could even think to be embarrassed about what you said, the color obvious on his pale cheeks as a compliment to his shocked expression. He didn’t say anything. And then he continued not to say anything, awkwardness growing. Your heart dropped into your stomach. In a splash of iridescent color, the soap bubble surrounding your thoughts popped.

“That was… A really bad joke, wasn’t it?” you asked. Fidgeting, you raised a nervous hand to mess with your bound hair, pulling the tail a bit tighter as you let out a forced laugh to get rid of the tension. Trying to save face. Not that it really helped. Regret was tangy, it left you sore. Dimitri still looked stunned. Conflicted. Maybe a bit embarrassed still. “Um, anyway, a true knight is noble and brave without any ulterior motives or desire for riches. And besides, today was so much fun that winning is… It’s the icing on the cake.”

“A joke,” Dimitri said doubtfully, adjusting his posture in a distinctly awkward way. His eyes were a bit too piercing, conflicted. Then they were pulled up, distracted by something behind you. “Oh, I… I’m afraid I must go, Professor Byleth asked me to meet with him once I was done here.”

You nodded quickly, glad for a break. “Yes, I should go help, uh, get things ready to leave.”

Dimitri looked apologetic, but moved to leave, pausing only a moment before departing. His expression was conflicted. Step uncertain, he cleared his throat somewhat awkwardly before speaking. “May we speak later?”

Your heart jolted. You couldn’t tell what that question implied, but you answered all the same on something like instinct. “Sure.”

Dimitri nodded, a firm militaristic nod, before departing. His dark-haired destrier looked at you with an unimpressed look, tossing his head in displeasure as his master left him.

“That was bad, wasn’t it?” you asked the beast of an animal. The destrier, nearly as royal as his rider, exhaled in a way that sounded suspiciously like a snort of derision.

Symphony Vittoria Opus 3, No. 3 cont. III. Minuet

It was only after the celebratory gathering of the Blue Lions dispersed that you realized that you had left your cloak in the dining hall. Well, more specifically, you realized it when you reached your room’s door and didn’t have a key. The first indication should have been that you were cold, but who could expect such elevated thought from your mushy brain after the day you had?

Without the glowing companionship of your class, you wanted nothing more than to toss yourself to the soft surface of your bed and lose your mind to a well-deserved rest. Staring dejectedly at the steadfast barrier, you considered the pros and cons of trying to pick the lock. Unfortunately, your training with Ashe hadn’t provided full comprehension in the thieving arts. Or, honestly, much comprehension at all. Then you considered simply smashing down the door. It almost seemed tempting until you realized it would probably make Professor Byleth upset if you were to deface monastery property.

There was nothing for it. With a dejected sigh, you turned on your heel and retraced your steps back into the monastery’s grand hall. Alone this time, since Mercedes and Annette had returned to their own rooms. The grounds and interior were mostly empty. When the heavy door shut behind you, each of your footsteps echoed and the flickering light of magically flared sconces splayed your shadow in all directions. The emptiness was slightly unnerving, especially since it wasn’t obscenely late. But everyone was wrung out and worn from the days battle and subsequent excitement. Most of the knights had left early in the night, leaving the professors in charge so they could make their own merry with coarser endeavors and liquor.

Students, of course, indulged in no such thing, even in the name of celebration. The monastery’s deep wells and windmills drew sweet, pure water from beneath the mountains, serving as the respectable replacement to the wine every establishment in Faerghus served in place of the often unsafe water. How odd it had been to learn that the custom was not mimicked everywhere, even seen as taboo by some. In any case, the rule against liquor in the dining hall was probably for the best. One of the few times you’d ventured out to one of the town’s taverns in your spare evenings, you were able to see firsthand how messily drunk those from other countries could get after drinking even the mildest of alcohol.

Entering the dining hall, you began to creep through the dark with a bent posture to scope out each bench for your misplaced cloak. The position strained your sore muscles, muscles you hadn’t even known could get sore before assuming mounted combat atop a pegasus. At least you spotted your cloak fairly easily.

You didn’t linger after that. Although you didn’t subscribe to superstitions like that precocious mage from Golden Deer did, there was something haunting in the air now that everyone was gone. An undefined sense of emptiness. Not too long before, the dining hall had been bright and warm and full of sound, but now the only reminder of the night’s celebration was the faint traces of excitement and a mess.

But, without a doubt, the worst part of silence was the way it threw your thoughts right back at you. Without distraction, your conversation with Dimitri returned to mind. The entire night you had been able to shrug it off as momentary madness, a state of drunken delirium from the excitement of fighting and winning, but in the dark, you weren’t so easily able to cast it aside. He hadn’t spoken to you at much throughout the celebration or so much as met your eye afterward.

Shrugging on your forgotten cloak, you left the dining hall through the stone laid fishing area, not desiring to walk back through the main hall. Besides, the air was smooth and fresh and, despite the high altitude, it wasn’t too cold. Not yet at least. In the north, the night would require you to be bundled up in wools and fur, drinking medicinal tea for fear of catching ill. But not here in the goddess’ blessed lands. You took in a deep breath, feeling the way the expanding air pushed at your sore muscles. You really were tired. Completely worn out.

Honestly, it was a coincidence that your chosen path also took you near the entrance to the second story dormitory staircase. Not at all intentional. Why, then, were you not surprised when someone called your name? No, not someone. You didn’t need to look to know the familiar voice, an achingly familiar sound. Almost like you had expected him to call out to you. If you believed in fate, and you were only partially certain that you did, you’d have no choice but to believe that the two of you were fated to meet solely by the will of the night.

Nerves sparked to life in your stomach, but you turned to face the call with a smile for the man to which the voice belonged. Sparse lamplight was warm on Dimitri’s skin as he moved to approach you, shining in the gold of his hair and highlighting the signs of weariness on his face. Taking the steps with ease you were sure your sore legs couldn’t possibly attain, Dimitri came to a stop a socially acceptable distance away. If you were to take a single step, you would be in his arms reach. Another would ensure that you’d have to look up to meet his eyes, perhaps you could make out their color even in the dark. And another after that would put you close enough to touch, for him to feel the heat of your burning cheeks.

Energy rippled in the space between you. Something about Dimitri’s expression, the way he had said your name. Something that made you utterly and entirely aware, sensitized to the air on your skin and the way your sore abdominal muscles tightened despite the way it strained them. Something about the embarrassment of what you had said after the battle.

“You’re up late,” you said, still wearing the silly nervous grin you couldn’t force away. It was a pointless remark, considering you knew exactly how little he actually slept, but you were far too flustered for anything particularly imaginative.

“Ah, yes,” Dimitri agreed. Formal. “Once again I find myself unable to sleep…” He hesitated, frowning. “Actually, I wanted to speak with you first. If you wouldn’t mind.”

“Not at all.”

“It’s… It’s about earlier,” Dimitri said.

“I remember,” you said, heart dropping. Soft words, achingly nervous words. Where was all your confidence now? It seemed all you had was the relentless flutter of butterflies and a head dizzy with anticipation. “I just was so excited, and I spoke without thinking and I’m really, really sorry... I don’t suppose we could just pretend it never happened?” You offered him a tight, hopeful smile.

“That’s not something I can so easily disregard,” Dimitri said, his brow furrowing. “I know sometimes people say or do things in the heat of the moment that they might not otherwise, and I swear I won’t pursue this any farther if that is the case. After all, I’m sure there are many other boys in the academy who would be far preferable, and besides, I’m...” He let the words lapse there, frowning. A moment later, that haunted look passed and his eyes rose back to yours. “Either way, for my own peace of mind, I felt that I ask what you meant by that request.”

You let out a little bubble of laughter in response, you couldn’t help it. The entire thing was just ridiculous. Boys preferable to him? What you meant, when your words had been so blatant? “Isn’t it obvious?” you asked. “I just thought that you weren’t interested, which is fine! I didn’t want to put you in that situation because I know you’re… I know you already have so many things to deal with and it’s not like I can offer someone like you anything of value, and most of the time I’m sure I’m just an annoyance anyway, so-”

“You’re not an annoyance,” Dimitri said urgently, taking a step forward. “Please don’t think such a thing. And as far as ‘value’, well, I’m not sure what I would do without you. What any of us would do without you. Your positivity and your smile have more value than you know. That’s why I worry that I…” He frowned again as if he was torn up about something. “I’m afraid I can’t give you what you want. I’m in no position to make any promises regarding the future. To do so would only be selfish.”

“I don’t understand,” you said. “If you don’t… like me, you can be honest about how you feel.” Even if it hurt, there was nothing worse than the not knowing. Probably. Maybe.

Dimitri’s expression shifted, his head tilting and lip turning up with the beginning of a smile. “Isn’t it obvious?” he asked, delivering the repeated quip with the stilted humor you’d grown used to. Despite that, in Dimitri’s expression, you saw a mirror of your nerves. You saw something that was at once cautious and questioning, binding the whatever fire that burned beneath. You saw intensity in its truest form. Control, and restriction. Doubt, and a question. Hesitation before action.

It was dizzying. The lack of sleep, the physical fatigue, the joy of victory, and now this. Words couldn’t describe the feeling, the elevation burning in the base of your skull, the shiver holding still at the small of your back, the muscles fluttering and tightening. Affection, pure and undiluted. Too much, bursting from the seams. Much more than you could ever tell him of.

“Will you kiss me?” you asked.

Like that, his hesitation melted away. Self control overridden by impulse. Dimitri took the last two steps, coming close enough for him to feel the heat of your blushing cheeks, to smell the soap you’d used to wash your hair after returning to the monastery. Close enough for his hand to cradle your head with overly careful movements, for your own to raise tentatively to his cheek and shoulder. Close enough for his lips to meet yours.

And it was lyrical. Poetic in every sense that it was not. Chaste, nothing like the enthusiastic and messy kissing you’d seen others engage in. Awkward in the way of two partners trying to learn a dance for the first time. Sweet because when you breathed in, Dimitri filled your senses. His hands, his body, his lips, all of them so close, yours for that moment.

Too soon it ended, leaving you starry eyed, dizzy, grinning like a lunatic.

Dimitri let his hands drop, taking a half step away to give you space. “I’m sorry, that was forward of me.”

“It’s okay to be forward, you know,” you said. “And sometimes being selfish... Well, it’s not always a bad thing.”

Dimitri weighed those words, then let out a heavy breath, shaking his head. Closing himself off from you. “I’m not so sure that’s true. Not for me, at least.” He caught himself after a moment, adding, “That’s not to say that I’m displeased with this. With you. That said… It looks as if you’re about to fall over. Today was an exhausting day, perhaps both of us could use a bit of rest.”

You hadn’t even noticed the way you were wobbling on your feet, unsteady. “Are you actually going to sleep?” you asked him.

“I think I might. Finally.”

You smiled. “Well, until we meet again in the waking world.”

“Until then,” Dimitri said, his head tipping politely.

Parting was bittersweet, your stomach lit aflame with a final glance back at him. That image kept you company all the way back. And although you had a thousand thoughts to keep you awake, you didn’t even get changed from your clothes before unconsciousness claimed you.

Symphony Vittoria Opus 3, No. 4 IV. Finale

It was a full moon, the first since the Blue Lion’s so-called victory at Remire Village. Even with the added illumination, the sky was somehow just as large and unfathomable as the abyss that sprawled beneath your feet. With the horizon so dark, there was practically no difference between them, no dividing line to say what was of earth and what was of the heavens. Only you, the darkness, and the absolute unknowable.

And your music, of course.

The air was cold as winter continued to cast its witching spell across the lands, and a seat on the top of the fence edging the sheer cliff at the corner of one of Garreg Mach’s courtyards was probably not the most comfortable or safe spot, but you had no desire to leave. Central Fodlan’s cold season wasn’t even half as brutal as it was in Faerghus. Besides, the full moon made you wonder, made you dream. Was the goddess really praying up there in the heavens, as legend of the Ethereal Moon would say? You could almost imagine it. The goddess in all her magnificent splendor among the stars, praying for peace and prosperity, for safety and calm.

That begged a rather odd question, though. To whom did the divine pray?

Either way, you performed for the occasion. Stray chords and soft melodies. Gentle notes that echoed against mountainous drop hidden in the dark below. Slow, weaving tunes that reverberated and repeated in the silence back to you. Or, perhaps, it was the silence itself that was rejecting the noise which disturbed it. You played for the abyss that stretched beneath your throne at the top of the world. You played for the billows of fog that crawled up from the dark, set alight and lustrous from the tender caress of the full moon hanging right above. You played to cease your thoughts as they whirled unendingly, you played in an attempt to remember the warmth that had burned so delightfully in your chest before.

Poking out from the scarf you’d pulled over your face, the tip of your nose was red, and your fingers were clumsy and stiff from the chill. But it was much, much better than silence. Absence was agony, quiet was cruel. For a while, you’d driven away the silence of the night with training. Dimitri hardly ever said anything, but there was a weight to the companionship and ritual of the entire affair. Since the brutal end of the previous month, you hadn’t seen him nearly at all.

You told yourself that it was fine. Dimitri was as the moon, a soul shining in soft radiance existing in a cycle of shifting patterns amidst the nuanced darkness of night. Waxing and waning with each pass. Bright and alluring sometimes, drawing you in with his laugh and contradicting sense of humor, with the liquid warmth you’d felt when his lips had met yours, but shuttered and turbulent on the others, hiding half in the dark and pulling away from you as the horrors of things hiding in the shadows overcame him. Distant and unknowable, something to love without expectation.

If only. Things had been going so well after that fateful night, your heart warm with joy in the wake of the Blue Lion’s victory at the Battle of the Eagle and Lion. Or at least you thought so. You hadn’t expected Dimitri to actually court you after a single kiss, or to treat you any differently than he had before, and he hadn’t. It was all you could hope for that he’d keep you around. But now the memory of his lips against yours was tinged by regret. Regret when you thought of Dimitri’s outburst outside of Remire and the subsequent slip of his mood and mentality, the way that he avoided you and your silly girlish crush and idealistic desires and annoyingly mundane wishes like a partner to the upcoming White Heron Ball and a calloused and strong hand to hold in yours.

You strummed a happy chord to counteract the bitter ache of that thought. A happy chord that became a melody. Nothing at first. That was the way of music, wasn’t it? Something from nothing, song from silence. Now, without even thinking about it, you began to play a song for the moon. You weren’t thinking about it, not really. You’d practiced this song a thousand times over in order to get it just right because the moon deserved something perfect. Another chord, a bit clumsy with cold, climbing it out to create a steady instrumental for the sung melody, now replaced with the soft voice of the lyre. No longer happy, the tune wept with the faint edge of melancholy.

You heard the approach of footsteps before the voice could startle you, your fingers coming to a harsh halt mid-way through. Combat training had taught you to be constantly aware of your surroundings, even while relaxed. Especially when there were such wicked villains strutting about the area. At the very least, it saved you from the undesirable fate being scared into a deadly plunge towards the void beneath you once the voice startled you, although you couldn’t help but mourn the loss of that blissful ignorance for the slightest moment. It was for the best, anyway, that song was for-

“I thought I might find you here,” Dimitri said.

Surprise or no, hearing his voice made you tense up, quickly looking behind your shoulder as if to prove to yourself that it really was him. Then again, who else would it be at this hour? You chose your spots very carefully these days, picking out the holes in where knights might usually patrol. There was no sense in guarding an area that no creature, human or beast, would be able to sneak in through.

Although you hadn’t seen him much at all recently, Dimitri’s appearance filled you with an odd sense of Deja Vu. Something about the way he was bleached silver by the full moon and draped in shadow, finally paying respect to the cold weather by wearing a striking blue cloak more substantial than that of his uniform. You pulled your lyre and hands into the safe warmth of your cloak, submitting to the silence while a small voice in your head wondered if it was the song that had summoned him. It was his, after all, penned soon after the conversation in the classroom months back.

How many days had it been since Remire, since he’d begun avoiding you?

But that was an easy answer, for you at least. Far too many.

“Perhaps I should try to be more unpredictable,” you finally said with an attempt at being playful, pulling your face from the scarf so you could be heard.

“Oh, no, that wasn’t what I meant, I-” Dimitri’s quick apologetic response cut off soon after it began, as if he realized something. “That was a joke.”

“Not a very good one,” you gave him.

The momentary levity dissipated in a flash, awkwardness returning. Dimitri looked tired, although it would have been more surprising to see him looking well rested at this point. Cold had nibbled his cheeks and nose to a pink that was rather fetching, considering you were quite certain your cheeks were ruddy with the icy chill. Visible awkwardness, both in his expression and in his stance, mirrored your own.

“Did you... Need something?” you asked when he said nothing further. You regretted your tone immediately, but Dimitri didn’t seem to take it personally, addressing the question at face value in the rather blunt way he so often did.

“Yes, I wanted to speak to you... Do you mind if I sit?” he asked, gesturing to stretch of the stone fence beside you. The blocks were just wide enough to make for a seat, and not adorned like they were in other parts of the monastery. Your head tilted in curiosity, heart stuttering in a way you were far too familiar with by now, a reaction you were certain your body reserved for Dimitri.

“Of course,” you said. Dimitri, to your surprise, threw his legs over the wall to sit beside you, looking about twice as awkward in the position as you might have imagined him to. Although, it didn’t seem to be out of caution of the great height, but some odd dissonance between the polite prince he was raised to be and the exhausted soldier he so often carried himself as. Neither were likely to adopt the position of the romantic delinquent who would find solace in such a place.

“This is an… Interesting spot to practice,” Dimitri noted lightly, looking at the sky, the abyss, and the stretching image of the cathedral’s spires beyond. Although his tone was as proper as ever, his eyebrow quirked, lit quite well by the bulbous moon above.

“I started coming here to get over my fear of heights so I could ride Siobhan without wanting to cry, but…” You considered the view, feeling a bittersweet twinge in your heart at the sight. Raw beauty hurt when you weren’t expecting it. “It’s a good spot to think, you know? And please don’t say that it’s dangerous. I have a knife and everything, just in case.”

“That’s good to know, but I wasn’t going to lecture you,” Dimitri said. “I trust your capability.” After a moment, he bitterly added, “Besides, I’m hardly one to talk in that regard.”

“Oh,” you replied, unsure of what else to say. You hadn’t noticed it before, but he looked serious. Well, Dimitri almost always looked serious, but there were varying shades of it. This was the type of serious that had a furrowed brow and eyes full of all sorts of deep, conflicting thoughts. The weight of the world bearing down on his shoulders. Very kingly.

“I wanted to apologize for my behavior in Remire Village,” Dimitri finally told you.

You felt a harsh pull in your gut to hear him say that, as well as surprise. You blinked as if that would clear things up, but it didn’t.

“Apologize?” you asked.

“For my behavior, and… For frightening you.” His eyes closed with those softer words, that apology utterly sincere. “Frightening me?” you asked, your voice even softer with disbelief. “You’ve been avoiding me since then, haven’t you?” Dimitri asked. “I won’t force my company on you, but please know that what happened… How I behaved… I am deeply regretful that you witnessed that.” He let out a breath, the cold puffing in front of his lips like a little ghost. “An apology does little to mend it, I know, but I am truly sorry.”

“Dimitri…” you said after an extended stillness had settled, your voice timid as you tried to understand what he had just said. “I think you’ve misunderstood.”

“Misunderstood?” he asked doubtfully.

“Or maybe I’ve misunderstood? You didn’t scare me, Dimitri, that’s…” Ridiculous. It was a ridiculous thought. “I was… No, I am worried for you,” you got out, stilted as you tried to voice what you thought. This wasn’t at all what you had thought this conversation would be, if it even happened at all. It was surreal, almost.

Dimitri still looked doubtful, measuring your words as mere placations. You knew him well enough by now to recognize that look in his eyes, even in the near dark. So you pushed forward, trying to make him understand, to convince him of your feelings without voicing them directly. A confession was the last thing Dimitri needed right now, not that you were even sure if you had the courage to confess what you felt. What you truly felt.

“After… What happened, you seemed so withdrawn and unhappy whenever I was around, so I thought you wanted to be left alone. That it was… What you needed. And I- I don’t really know how to help you, anyway.” That truth hurt to voice, ripping up the inside of your throat as it emerged from your mouth in a hushed tone. “Or if that’s even possible. I see the stress you’re under, the pain… You look so tired these days, and you mentioned that your head aches terribly, so I-”

“I’m fine,” Dimitri interrupted sharply, his body tense and eyes hard. Then he blinked. Sighed with another puff of cold air. His eyes lowered and shoulders drooped, a hand going to his temple. “I’m sorry. You shouldn’t be concerned about me, I really am fine.”

“Even if that’s true… Well, please remember that I’m with you, whatever you need, however I can help. No matter what,” you said.

His eyes, the blue obscured by the sunken shadows cloaking them, held yours for a suspended moment. Looking for your loyalty? For honesty?

“The Professor looks at me the same way,” he finally said, looking back out into the dark. “So worried. He says I should get more rest… But how can I sleep when the despicable scoundrels who orchestrated the tragedy in Remire Village continue to draw breath? Not just them, but…” Dimitri hesitated. “I told you before that I lost my parents and many of my friends in the Tragedy of Duscur, do you remember?”

You nodded, not daring to speak.

“When I saw what was happening in Remire, I was reminded of the flames I saw four years ago in Duscur… Of the chaos that took my family and stole countless precious lives. And right then, my mind was overcome with that same rage… A complete and utter darkness.” He paused, looking out over the void below with hardened eyes, anger etched into his face. “Since that day in Duscur, my sole purpose has been to find justice for my family. Justice for all of those who have suffered and died at the hands of the Flame Emperor and his ilk. Inhuman monsters who prey on the innocent. That is the only reason I came to the Officer’s Academy.” Dimitri’s voice had become low, not the growl from Remire, but managing to be just as intense. “I will have revenge.”

Chills prickled nearly painfully against the insides of your sleeves and thick leggings, shuddering down your spine like ice water. Dimitri was being honest, there was no doubt in you that this was his truth, but you weren’t sure he’d ever seemed more unreachable as he did at that moment. The binding chains of the dead dictated his life. You had seen it before, feared it, but now you could see the fact starkly, plainly displayed in his eyes. He was willing to lose himself to the ghosts of those who had died, to his rage and his grief.

And you couldn’t do anything about it, could you?

“Dimitri,” you said softly, even mournfully. With a tentative touch, you pulled a hand out from your cloak to place it on his clenched fist where it sat between the two of you. Dimitri tensed up, his eyes swiveling to you as if surprised at your proximity. He blinked, and the tension bled out from his body, his fist unclenching. Clearing his throat, he adjusted his gaze, his body. Awkward once more. Your hand retreated, falling back onto your lap as you pulled away from him, allowing the moment to drop without any further comment.

Somewhere beyond the two of you, a breeze rustled the world of the dark into a faint stir, the sounds of it loud in comparison to the silence. You let out a slow, heavy breath, drawing in the cold air gratefully for the way it stung.

“Thank you for telling me. You know that…” You swallowed hard. “Anything you need of me, anything you ask… I’m with you to the end.”

“I wouldn’t ask that of you… Of any of you,” Dimitri responded. “This is my duty, my burden alone to bear.”

“You don’t need to be alone,” you said softly.

Dimitri pulled in a sharp breath, his gaze once again fixing on you. Was that surprise? Distaste? You didn’t know, and he didn’t respond. Soon after, he looked away. Another trail of silence began. Just you and him and the millions of things you didn’t know, that you wished so desperately to understand.

“I should probably attempt to get some rest,” Dimitri said after a span. “Professor Byleth has already made it clear that he’ll drag me out for tea first thing.” He sighed. “I appreciate the effort, but I can’t say that I’m in much of a mood to celebrate.”

Panic spiked through you.

“Dimitri,” you said, your voice just a touch too loud as you looked at him, blinking yourself to clarity as something in his words registered. “It’s your birthday today.”

“So it is,” he replied.

You were so stupid to have forgotten! Well, not entirely forgotten. You had known it was coming up, you just assumed that you wouldn’t get the chance to give him his gift considering how distant he had been. Now your lyre felt heavy in your arms, and the song for the moon began to tease your thoughts once more. It was one of the first real original compositions you’d ever penned, a song for a man who had an admitted indifference towards music. Admittedly, you had bonded a sort of understanding with all of the musicians who had composed for King Lambert while writing it.

“Before you go, um, so... I didn’t know what to get you...” you began nervously.

“I didn’t expect anything,” Dimitri said as if to soothe you. He meant it, too, a fact that made you feel rather sad.

“Well, I didn’t get you anything, but I… I wrote you a song. It’s all I could think of that would be special, and I was thinking that when you’re king, every bard is going to write songs about you. Extolling your virtues and waxing endlessly about your battle prowess and jaw-dropping physique and kingly merits, but I’d like to be the first.” You paused in your mess of words, frowning as the question struck you. “I am your first, aren’t I?”

Dimitri looked, unless you were way off the mark, flustered. After thinking about what you had just said, you felt a bit of that yourself. Luckily, he played it off well.

“The first to write a song about me? I believe you would be.”

“That’s a relief,” you said with an overly dramatic sigh, trying to cover for your embarrassment. It helped, kind of. “Anyway, I know you don’t love music and if you don’t want it that’s fine, but I thought that it’d be… Uh… Well, you know…”

“Can you play it?” he asked.

“Yes, if you want,” you said, feeling a rush of nerves. Of course, you had hoped for him to ask, but hoping for something and having it happen were different matters entirely. Every musician wanted a chance to show off, but you were only partially a musician and you wanted most desperately to impress Dimitri. More than the goddess, even.

“Please,” he said, gesturing for you to play. You couldn’t tell if he was just humoring you or not. You hoped he wasn’t.

“It’s a short song, so don’t worry… It’s a lullaby, actually,” you explained, pulling your lyre out from beneath your cloak and testing the strings and your fingers. Luckily, talking had given them a chance to melt a bit. “I, um, I didn’t think that a gaudy ballad or anything would suit you. Or anything too upbeat. Perhaps one day, but for now… Well, I thought it was the best fit.” Dimitri didn’t say anything to your rambled thoughts, and you were far too embarrassed to look at him directly to see what expression he might have been wearing. But that was fine, you’d only been talking in order to give yourself a chance to get everything in order. “It doesn’t have a name yet, either, but… Uh, here goes.”

You took in a deep breath, holding it for just a moment before letting it out in a slow stream. A set of singular notes began the song, the ones you had been tinkering with earlier. They built up into a chord. Simple, the best lullabies were simple, even their introductions. Then, striking one chord to hold, you began to sing.

“Now close your eyes and hush your cries, though the dark surrounds you.”

You struck another chord as you savored the words, holding onto the notes just slightly. This was the first time you’d ever tasted them like this, and they were bittersweet. Luckily, the sound of your voice was greatly helped by the sound bouncing to and fro about the cliffside below, being returned back to you by the dark.

“Many have gone, and the night’s been long, but soon the sun will rise.” With your right hand, you layered in more chords to add a more firm compliment to your melody. The lyre wasn’t creating a happy sound, but not one that was overtly sad. She sounded melancholic, in a way. Somber, but also giving you a driving force for the next lines.

“Now comes the cold and horrors untold, the world torn asunder.”

Your fingers climbed the strings of your lute into a rising glissando, the other set of fingers adding a faint droning note to work off of.

"But Prince of Blue….

By the goddess, it was sad, wasn’t it? Dimitri. He was a tragic figure. Now more than ever you understood that as a fact.

“Stay brave, stay true…”

The discordant tri-tone shift downward propelled you forward, emotion pulling through your fingers and in your voice.

“The lion will prevail….”

Your voice pushed upwards a third, unraveling the melody into repeating itself.

“So don’t you cry...”

There was tension in the chord you hit, still. Unresolved conflict between the notes and the song, not one you had planned for, but it was right. Complete in the way that it was broken.

“Close your eyes…”

Another chord to compliment the echoed tri-tone shift, closer to what was needed to fulfill the sound, to make it whole, but not quite, not yet.

“Soon, the sun will rise.”

The instrumental resolution following that final phrase was simple, as simple as anything else. Three chords struck plain and not held. Sorrowful, but not dark. It hurt all the same, and as the final notes faded from your mind, you found that you wished they didn’t have to. It wasn’t the best song, and maybe it wasn’t even good, but that didn’t matter.

Your eyes were misty as you slowly pulled your lyre back against you, raising your gaze to look at your singular audience member. You’d never written a song for another person before, and certainly not like this. While performing you had felt a sense of separation, of strength and belief in your composition, but you suddenly realized that you had no idea what it might have sounded like. Making it even worse, Dimitri wore an expression you couldn’t read, his eyes fixed on you intently.

Anxiety twisted your insides as you waited for his deciding response, the seconds ticking by like years. Eventually, you found yourself too antsy to wait for him.

“Do you hate it?” you asked in a rush. “If you don’t like it I can… I can try another one, maybe a different type of song? Or different lyrics? Or….” Maybe this had been a bad idea, he had mentioned before that he wasn’t especially enthused about music in the first place. You had been too excitable about it. Too desperate. “You can be honest.”

“I… I don’t know what to say,” he finally told you, the words' stiff. “It wasn’t what I expected… I suppose that I’m the Prince of Blue?”

You nodded.

“And the lion?”

“Us, all of us. Together.”

“I see…”

“You can be honest.”

“It’s a lovely song. I… I’m sorry to admit that I didn’t expect that.” He even managed to sound apologetic. “I’ve never had much interest in music.”

Relief crashed through you, your shoulders drooping a bit as you relaxed. “Before knowing you, I hated warm up routines,” you replied, striving for a casual smile and tone. “So… Maybe there’s hope for you yet?”

Dimitri snorted at the idea, at the perceived ridiculousness. He was probably right.

“Okay, maybe not,” you admitted. “I promise you next year I’ll get you a really cool sword or something.”

“Next year…” he mused. His expression wasn’t dark, but leading into to unsafe territory. You could only begin to guess at what he imagined for his future.

“Things will be different then, huh?” you said, frowning. It hurt to think of him leaving, going off to be king, to think of the reason why he couldn’t make any promises. In a year there would be no more clandestine night time meetings, sanctified by the moon. “I suppose time must continue forward. But that… That’s okay, isn’t it?” you asked. Then, your head tipped towards him, an impish smile spreading across your face. “For now you should probably be more concerned about tea with Professor Byleth.”

Dimitri blinked, his eyes focusing, but he laughed. “That’s true, I-”

“Your Highness,” a familiar low voice said, cutting through Dimitri’s words. Dedue. He stood behind the two of you, wearing an obvious look of concern. Likely for the potentially precarious position Dimitri was in. “I’ve been searching for you. I wish you would alert me before going out, it isn’t safe.”

“Ah, my apologies, Dedue,” Dimitri responded, returning to his stiffly conversational way of speaking. Posture equally stiff, he turned and swing off of the fence to the solid ground. “I didn’t intend to be out so long. We should be getting back.” Dimitri turned his head to you. “And you as well.”

“Yes, it’s late isn’t it?” The sky-bound moon had dragged across the sky in the time you’d been too absorbed in your worldly moon to notice, showing how late it was. You swiveled and hopped back to the ground, holding your lyre safely beneath your cloak. The case was in your room, one of the worst signs of your internal turmoil. But… that was fine. You didn’t want to take the time to place your lyre back in her case that right then. Not when you’d just won a victory of sorts. Victory always made you a special kind of fool.

“Goodnight Dedue,” you said, bowing slightly to the tall man. “And… Goodnight Dimitri. Happy birthday. This years gonna be a good one, I can feel it.” Smiling, nervous, and a bit jittery, you rose to your toes and kissed his cheek. Quickly, too fast for him to respond in any way. Like that first victory, months ago. And, just like that time, you turned tail straight away to make your escape, endlessly grateful that your block of dormitory rooms was in the opposite direction from theirs.

You hummed all the way back, a lullaby.

#fire emblem three houses #FE3H #dimitri alexandre blaiddyd #fe dimitri #dimitri #fe dimitri x reader #dimitri alexandre blaiddyd x reader #dimitri x reader #my writing #beastie and the bard

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ask-the-awesome · 4 years

Note

Thanks for answering my ask anyway i have a another question mun i have a question what if even i say this there's a smidge chance this could happened that Himaruya the creator of Hetalia decided to take hetalia into a reboot and by making it historical accurately where also some resemblance on your headcanons any thoughts on that??? or making these a serious anime series what's your reactions on that what if scenario that somewhat happened and fixed the a few flawed character development???

((Oh heck that’s a lot of words okay um...

Uh...I am but a humble canon slave, believe it or not. Everything I do already has a basis in the current canon (in some way), with the exception of some of the really shitpost-y or au things (or certain interactions where it just wouldn’t make sense anymore). So therefore, I defer to Hima on this one and will respect his decision on the matter. Personally, while it had a rough start and definitely had some undeniably bad decision-making in the beginning, I’ve really grown to love how this silly comedy series has developed over the years and the more recent parts actually seem especially thoughtful. I miss the webmanga and hope we get more updates, and I’m always going to be waiting for a new season of the anime, but I’m pretty content with where it’s going at the moment.

On the other hand, something serious with these characters would be fun to see, but I think it could only be in an AU form where the characters are disconnected from their representation status. The way they are right now, even if you understand how it’s supposed to be a parody, there’s still a lot of pressure on how they act as long as they’re tied to real-life large-scale counterparts. As we’ve seen with certain characters and jokes, that can end up harmful in the long run, even with the best intentions. As their own people without that responsibility and the opportunity to have their personalities as individuals put first, however, I do believe there is a ton of potential. I would love to see another movie though, with a slightly more...comprehensible plot this time.

At least, those are my current thoughts. I love this series, I always want to see more of it forever, but I’m honestly not that creative and I may interpret things a little oddly, so who knows how helpful any of this is. If Hima does do a reboot, though, you can bet I’ll be getting in line to check it out as soon as possible!

Thanks for the question! This was interesting to think about.))

#ooc #nicholaspwildeblog #((the idea is fascinating though!))#((I'm sure other series like that will pop up eventually))#mun thoughts #food for thought

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illogicalhusbands · 5 years

Text

The Game is Afoot - pt. 3

Bill Masters x Alec Hardy Masters of Sex / Broadchurch Crossover Link to Part 2

I apologize for taking a long while to update! Me and my co-mod have had our hands full the past week with work and other projects. But I’m hoping I can get back to regular scheduling soon! We’re nearing the end of this fic now. I project the next update will probably be the last. Thank you to everyone who’s still reading this! -

“A whisk, Hardy? Really? You’ve been pining over this man for a month and you give him a bloody whisk?”

“Sod off, Miller. It’s a housewarming party and he has plenty of stuff already.”

Miller frowned. “You should at least give something that’ll leave a bigger impression on him.”

“What do I get him, then? A Victorian sofa?”

He put down the whisk and perused the section of the shop dedicated to pots and pans. Both he and Miller had been invited to Masters’ housewarming party the coming weekend and Alec had no idea what gift to get him.

“Now, now, don’t overthink this. You can always go the old-fashioned route.”

“What route is that?”

Miller grinned. “Oh, y’know. Flowers… chocolates… some good wine…”

Alec was scandalised at being reminded of when he was first invited to Miller’s house several years ago and didn’t know what was polite to bring to your friends’ houses as he never had any. “Do not go there, Miller, I swear—”

“See? You’re already a natural at this!” Alec remained silent. “You could add balloons. Or an angel cake.”

“Don’t laugh at my misery.”

Miller gave a frustrated sigh. “I’m trying to help you! Jesus Christ, you two have been circling around each other for weeks! Can’t you move it along?”

Alec rolled his eyes. “Move what along? We’re not a canoe, Miller.”

“You are being purposely obtuse!” Ellie said, shoving a finger at his chest. “You like him—”

“I didn’t say that.”

“—and he obviously fancies you—”

“Now that’s debatable.”

“And Lord knows you are in need of a good shag which, if I’m hearing correctly from the rumours, Dr. Masters is perfectly capable of giving.”

Alec went through a series of multiple shades of deep red.

“Where did I put down that whisk?” said Alec, retreating down the steps he’d gone.

Miller grabbed his arm. Her face softened. “Look at you, you big ol’ softie. Don’t give me that grouchy look. Like you said, he has plenty of stuff. I’m sure he’ll love whatever it is you’ll get cause he’ll only care about who it was from.”

Alec hung his head, suddenly taken by a breeze of honesty. “But that’s not good enough.”

Since that day at the library, he and Masters had only grown closer. It was bordering on ridiculous, really, how much they hung out and had breakfast and texted each other on the phone. And it didn’t help at all that Dr. Masters had an amazing personality to match with his confident facade. He was witty and intelligent. He had a dry sense of humour that eased Alec’s constant worries of saying something that others deem inappropriate. Masters took his rude remarks and added to them a spark of somewhat greater morbidity. Perhaps it had to do with both of them being in morbid careers, but they understood one another at a level that Alec had never experienced with anyone else. Not even his investigative partner and best friend Miller.

He was comfortable around Masters but at the same time it was frustrating to be around him. How could this incredible man continue to carry out charming conversations with him when he was only spitting out dull, dry remarks like a seventy-six year old spinster? How Masters could be friendly with him was completely beyond his comprehension, let alone try to ponder on the possibility of the doctor having a romantic attachment towards him.

Still, Miller was partly correct. By this time he’s able to fully admit to being head over heels for the man. How could he not? Here was a remarkable person who shared his sense of humour and inquired after him as if he really cared. It was a little pathetic, to be honest, for Alec to latch on to one of the first human beings to ever treat him with a bit of kindness. Masters was only the unfortunate victim of his affections.

He was infuriating with his small bowties and neat hair and his “You need to eat more, Holmes” text messages as if what Alec did was of any consequence to him. It was getting more and more difficult to appear unaffected by him.

When Alec walked into the cafe one sunny Wednesday morning, he found Masters already seated at their usual table. It was rare that the doctor arrived earlier than he did. There was a tray of scones in front of the empty seat across from him. Alec, perplexed, occupied his seat.

“I know you usually drink your tea on an empty stomach, but you shouldn’t make a habit of it,” said Masters before digging into his own club sandwich.

Alec stared wordlessly at him. He didn’t know whether it was on purpose or not, but Masters had scored another point against him. The scones were Alec’s favourites from the menu. He’d only had them a handful of times around him. Had the doctor really been paying attention to him the whole time?

Masters looked captivating in his silver dress shirt and tartan blue bowtie, teasing smirk dancing constantly on his lips. He more found it interesting now rather than irritating as he did during their first meeting. Here was the man who already knew his favourite food whereas the only things he knew about Masters were whatever information that could be gleaned from the internet or, god forbid, a dossier. It made him feel dreadful.

They settled into light conversation for the rest of the half hour. Alec hoped the rest of the meeting would remain unremarkable. They got up and walked out of the shop.

Halfway out of the door, he heard a voice from behind him. “Alec? Is that you?”

He turned to see a familiar woman with strawberry blonde hair and a fringe that swept just below her brows. For a moment he struggled to recognize her, then it clicked.

“Katie?” Alec recalled the person he’d gone on a blind date with several months ago. It was at a momentary phase in his life wherein he tried his hand at rebuilding relationships. He went on a couple of blind dates but none had really worked out well. At most he’d had a nice dinner and some company, but no one was truly able to take his attention the way… well, the way the dapper doctor currently beside him did. “It’s good to see you,” he added politely.

“Yeah? You’re looking good nowadays. Been hearing a lot about you from the news.” She tucked loose strands of hair behind her ear.

“Wish there was nothing to hear about, actually. Hearing about me is a sign of terrible news in this town. S’why no one can stand me,” he said in half-jest.

“Oh, I’m sure that’s not true. We’re very grateful for the work you’re doing.” Katie fidgeted on the strap of her bag and sighed. “Listen, I know you’re a busy man, but I had a lot of fun on our date and I was kinda hoping you’d call…”

Alec blanched. He did not fail to notice how silent Masters was throughout this entire ordeal. “Yeah, I’m… sorry about that. The um, cases just kept coming,” he finished flatly.

Katie seemed oblivious to his tone. She was a sweet girl, but truly dull. She laid a hand on his forearm. “Yes, I understand that completely.” She gnawed on her bottom lip. “But if you ever have some free time, I’d really look forward to hanging out with you again.”

Alec didn’t know what to reply to that. This was exactly why he didn’t do romance and dating anymore. There was so much energy required and he couldn’t be bothered with all these social niceties and he didn’t have the heart to shoot her down directly, especially with Masters around to see it as that would only be doubly embarrassing for Katie. Still, he had to say something.

“Katie, um… look. I’m actually… seeing someone now.” He winced as the words came out of his mouth. Katie looked crestfallen.

“Oh. I’m sorry, I didn’t…” She dropped her hand. “I just didn’t expect you to… I mean, I didn’t think you…” She shook her head. “Anyway, she must be an exceptional girl and I hope you two’re happy. Do I know her?”

Alec resisted the overwhelming urge to groan out loud. Was there no way to escape this conversation? What was he even going to say?

He startled at Masters clearing his throat, momentarily having forgotten that he was still there. “Actually, he’s not dating a woman.” His hand shot out, fingers twining with Alec’s with a flourish that appeared practised, like they’d done so plenty of times before instead of being the first skin-on-skin contact Alec has had with the man he lo—greatly fancied. “But you are correct with us being very satisfied in this relationship,” Masters added in a friendly tone.

But when Alec turned to look at him, he was anything but polite. Eyes slanted and chin pushed down to his collar, regarding Katie as if she were nothing but a nuisance. Something about that look tickled Alec’s insides, a thrumming sensation pooling in his gut. Katie’s lips parted with shock before she shook herself out of it and turned back to Alec, wanting to say something more. Just when he started to revel in the warmth of Masters’ hand, he let go. Alec tried not to feel dismayed.

He was still incapable of speaking and thankfully, Masters seemed to realize this. He spoke again, “It was lovely running into you, but my little sleuth here has a lot of work to attend to. If you’ll excuse us.”

“Down, Watson,” Alec couldn’t resist teasing. This was also the first time Alec had called him that out loud.

This seemed to have done something to the man as in the next moment, Masters’ arm crept behind his back, sliding over the fabric of his cotton dress shirt, touch ghosting over the muscles of his lower back. Warmth radiated through his spine. Alec let himself bask in it, quivering in the heat. A hand fastened itself onto his waist and Masters pulled, securing him to his side. The movement was all very languid, Alec’s shoulder and ribs coming naturally to latch onto the planes of Masters’ sturdy frame. Alec was stunned—pliant against him.

He sneaked a glance up at Masters’ face. He was still staring down at Katie with a hint of amusement in his eye, a particular twinkle. The face of a winner, with Alec as the prize.

Alec was experiencing a torrent of emotions, but it was far from being unpleasant.

Finally, they walked out of the cafe and after a considerable distance was made between them and the establishment, Alec spoke.

“I am very sorry about what happened back there.”

“No, I should be the one to apologize.” Alec believed this was the first time he saw Masters looking, of all things, sheepish. “I didn’t mean to do all that but.. But it was the quickest way to get rid of her, and you were looking like you were in trouble—”

“Nononono—” Alec hurried to console him. “You did, um… help me, with that. I should thank you, I suppose.”

Masters avoided his gaze, all traces of his previous bravado vanished. “Probably shouldn’t have done it, though. Might make it hard for you to get another date. And the touching might have been too much—”

“Is that what you think?” Alec’s breaths were shallow. “Because I don’t. Want it. Another date, that is.” His cheeks radiated with sudden warmth.

“Oh. That’s… good.” A gentle smile graced Masters’ face, though he was still avoiding Alec’s gaze. But there was a flicker of something in his eyes… one that looked a lot like… Hope?

He muscled his way through the rings of nervousness forming in his throat. “And I don’t mind the um, touching.”

Masters laughed. “Good.” The cheekiness was back in his tone.

Alec could sigh at the sight of him. His eyes sparkling with amusement, thin lips curled up into a teasing smile, and the sun’s rays touching upon his hair and his skin, making Alec’s fingers tingle with the desire to touch. It was too much, but also not enough.

Still he’d be content just to have this. Masters, gleeful and teasing, beside him in the mornings challenging him and helping him out of sticky situations. Truly it was more than enough. More than he deserved.

“I’ll see you this weekend for the housewarming,” said Masters before walking in the opposite direction from where Alec was headed. Alec’s gaze trailed behind him for an eternity after.

Another day had passed. The breakfast with Masters went more or less normally and he was glad that things seemed to return to their ordinary ways. Alec arrived at the station. A burst of whispers rang through the moment he entered the room.

He glared at the other officers, drawing up to his full height to appear intimidating. But they mostly all glared back. They were also mostly coming from the women (and some men) in the room.

“What’re you all staring at? Bugger off! The safety of the town depends on it and you’re here babblin’ like children!” At this, the officers whipped their heads back down to their workstations. The sound of shuffling papers and pressed keyboards filled the room once more.

Miller greeted him at the door to his office. Alec crossed his arms. “What?”

She was beaming. “Finally! Took you long enough, sir.”

“What the deuce are you talkin’ about?”

“Please. Everyone knows about it already. No need to hide it from me.” She clapped her hands. “You and Dr. Masters are dating!”

Alec could’ve sworn his soul just left his body. “I-wh-mff!—”

Miller poked his arm. “Look at you all adorably flustered! Heard it from down the grapevine, but everyone says it comes from a very reliable source. Came straight from your mouth, they say!”

Alec could feel the mortification stretching through him. To hell with this stupid, bloody town! If the entire community heard—nay, god forbid Masters heard of this! He panicked. Masters would never speak to him again. “God, that wasn’t—! UGH. It’s not true. I was caught off guard!”

“Oh,” Miller’s face drooped down with dismay. “Well, that’s not what every body thinks.”

Alec remembered the most charming welcome he’d just received when he entered.

“What’re they all staring at me like that for? I haven’t done anything to them!”

“Not personally, no. But they’re bound to resent you in some way or another.”

“Yes, and I have no idea why.” Alec’s arms flew up and flailed.

“Surely you do,” said Miller, smirking. “Whether you like it or not, Alec Hardy, you just managed to reel in the most eligible bachelor in Broadchurch.”

#bill masters x alec hardy #bill masters #alec hardy #broadchurch #masters of sex #illogical husbands #crossover ship #ficlet #THIS TOOK OUT SO MUCH OF MY ENERGY I HOPE IT APPEASES YOU* MEURGH #leann writes #the game is afoot

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flowerfan2 · 4 years

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Affinity - Ch. 6 (10.06)

McDanno, A03

A continuous story of season 10 episode codas. Steve may describe their relationship as a dysfunctional marriage, but at some point, will he and Danny take a closer look at what it really could be?

Chapter 6

“You’ve got to admit it, Danno, you can’t get this with an app.” Steve is standing and stretching, looking out over the rocky landscape to the shining blue ocean.

Danny shakes his head at Steve and pulls out his water bottle to take a long swig. Steve had suggested the hike last night (“we’ve both got the day off – let’s go do something fun”) and Danny had quickly agreed.

The hike out to Ka’ena Point is long and hot, with absolutely no shade, but it’s ridiculously beautiful. There’s something very satisfying about making it all the way out to Oahu’s westernmost tip of land. It’s remote and wild and the only way to get there is to hike in (unless you somehow score a vehicle permit, which Steve just scoffs at, noting the danger to the degrading sand dune habitat).

When they set off early this morning Danny had thought that they had scored a perfect day for the trek, and for the most part they did, although it’s not as cool as he had hoped it would be. He did wear a hat, of course - no one on the island hikes Ka’ena without a hat – but it’s just a ball cap, not the floppy more protective get-up that Steve has on. The skin on the exposed back of his neck is definitely regretting his choices.

Steve watches judgmentally as Danny pulls out a tube of sunscreen, but doesn’t say anything, at least not right away. Danny makes a show of lotioning up his arms first, as if he was just being extra cautious, but they’ve only been hiking for about forty-five minutes so it’s overkill even for his sensitive skin.

“Come on, let me help,” Steve finally says, taking the sunscreen out of Danny’s hand. “We’ll be here all day otherwise.”

Steve zeros in on Danny’s neck immediately, smoothing in a generous amount of lotion with a surprisingly gentle touch. Steve’s fingers are cool from his own water bottle, and Danny can’t help but shiver at little at the sensation.

“You like that, huh?” Steve says softly into Danny’s ear, and splays his cool hand out over the back of Danny’s neck.

It’s oddly intimate, standing together in the bright sunlight on a quiet, dusty trail, nothing to see but sand dunes and rocky lava stretching out to the ocean.

“Yeah,” Danny says softly, not wanting to break the spell. “Feels good.”

Steve leaves his hand there for another beat, until it’s no longer as shockingly icy, and then removes it slowly. He slathers more lotion on Danny’s neck, then comes around to stand in front of Danny and, smirking, reaches out and quickly dabs a bit on Danny’s nose.

“Hey,” Danny steps back, surprised.

Steve just grins. “What? I’m just helping out.”

Danny can’t come up with a comeback that properly expresses “we were having a moment and then you acted like a child and confused me” so he just shoots a glare at Steve and continues walking along the trail.

“You don’t want to show up at work with a sunburn,” Steve says, jogging to catch up with him. “People might think you had done something social on your day off.”

“Are you ever going to let that go? You can’t tell me you don’t appreciate being able to have any food you like delivered to your door.”

“Yeah, but it’s not because I’m trying to avoid talking to people. It’s just convenient.”

“Convenient? Sure, that’s part of it. But you like taking a break from all the demands, too. From all the people who are always asking you for stuff.”

“People aren’t always asking me for stuff,” Steve says, but with less conviction.

“Are you kidding? Of course they are, all the time. Remember last Thursday, when six different people asked you for help with things entirely unrelated to Five-0 in the course of one day, and you complained through an entire six-pack?”

“That was different,” Steve says, and Danny glances at him. Steve’s got his “I’m thinking my way out of this” face on, and Danny takes a minute to enjoy it.

“How, precisely, was it different?”

“Just, unusual, is all. And if I can’t complain to you, who can I complain to?”

Danny nods. “Right. And that is exactly why an app is helpful. You weren’t fit to speak to anyone that night, excepting me, who has learned over the years how to handle a Steve McGarrett venting session.”

“Oh yeah? How do you handle it?”

Danny grins over his shoulder at Steve. “With a six-pack of beer, obviously.”

Steve huffs. “Obviously.”

They walk on in companionable silence, stopping every so often to look out over the water. Sometimes you can see dolphins and even whales, but they haven’t seen either yet today. Steve stops them at one point to look at what he thinks is a monk seal on the beach, but when they get closer they realize it was just a curvy rock.

When they make it out to the point they wander around, looking around the point to see the rugged Waianae side of the island. Danny uses his phone to take a few photos of the amazing view, and then they settle down for a snack. Steve pulls a bag out of his pack and hands an apple to Danny.

“Thanks.”

There are more people on the trail now, and a few groups already at the point, reading the state park signs with information about the nesting seabirds and looking at the remains of the old lighthouse. Two women with long dark hair and sturdy hiking boots walk past them, the taller one waving to Steve and Danny as they go by.

“You know them?” Danny asks.

“No. And don’t try to set me up.” Steve says firmly.

“Wow, okay, I wasn’t going to go there, but sure.” Danny watches as the two women pause, one pointing out something to the other. “Just thought they looked familiar.”

Steve looks at them and shrugs. “Reminds me of Tani and Quinn, maybe.”

“Yeah, maybe.” Danny thinks of the Tani and Quinn lookalikes the idiot you-tubers substituted for the real thing in their HPD recruitment video. Tani had taken the news with remarkable calm. “The two of them make a good team.”

Steve turns to Danny, looking pleased. “You think so? I thought they might. I hoped they would, anyway.”

“Yeah, they do.”

“It frees Junior up for other things, you know, not always being paired with Tani.”

“Junior’s good with Adam, it’s true.” Danny wonders whether to mention the other thing Junior’s been good for lately, but Steve beats him to it.

“I like having him along with us sometimes,” Steve says quietly.

“Junior’s fast,” Danny says. “And he seems to have learned how to take down a perp from the McGarrett school of leap before you look.”

“Oh, he’s looking,” Steve says. “Did you see him vault that chain-link fence and sideswipe the drug dealer last week? He knows what he’s doing.”

Danny nods. “He does. And he’s good at it.” He breathes out slowly, focusing on the glittering ocean in front of them. “Takes a little bit of the pressure off of you.”

He can feel Steve’s hesitance to respond, but the bubble they’ve been in all morning wins out.

“Yeah,” Steve says. “It really does.” Steve takes off his sunglasses and wipes them on his pants, looking a little glum.

“Come on, you’re not that old yet,” Danny says, bumping his shoulder against Steve’s. “Still got a few heroic take-downs left in you.”

“Gray hair says otherwise,” Steve responds, rubbing at his scruff.

“Lemme see,” Danny says, leaning in. It’s not as if he hasn’t noticed before, but it seems to make Steve relax to stick his chin out and let Danny commiserate. “Yeah, definitely some grays.”

“Not you, though,” Steve says, peering at Danny’s face and then looking up at him. “Why don’t you have any gray hair? You worry enough, you should have a head full of it.”

Danny shrugs. “Maybe I do, it’s just not as noticeable, you know, my hair’s lighter.”

Steve squints and takes Danny’s chin in his hand, thumb and forefinger squeezing. “I think you’d notice.”

Danny lets his eyes fall shut as Steve tilts his face one way and then another. “I shave closer than you. Every day. So I can’t tell.”

“On purpose?” Steve asks, his breath puffing against Danny’s cheek. “I mean, do you shave every day so you don’t have to see if there’s gray in there?”

“No, of course not,” Danny responds, but when he opens his eyes Steve is looking right at him, and he gets the feeling he doesn’t buy it.

“Why don’t you let it grow out a few days, let me see what’s there,” Steve says, rubbing his thumb along Danny’s jawline.

Danny suddenly feels warm, and it’s not from the lack of shade. Steve isn’t showing any signs of moving away from him, and he’s been stroking Danny’s chin for far longer than can be explained away by their somewhat contrived conversation about scruff.

“Steve?” he asks. “Do you, um, do you ever think about…?”

“Yes, Danny?” Steve’s voice is low, and Danny sees Steve’s eyes flicker down to his lips and back up again. He’s going to kiss me, Danny thinks. Or I’m going to kiss him. He closes his eyes, his breath stuttering in his chest, and gets ready to leap.

“Hey, sorry to bother you guys.” a voice shatters the moment, and Steve’s hand drops from Danny’s face as they turn to see the dark-haired girl who had waved to them earlier.

“No, no problem, what’s up?” Steve asks, while Danny blinks hard and wills his heart to stop pounding.

“My friend scraped her knee up pretty bad, just wondering if you had a first aid kit or anything.”

“Absolutely.” Steve grabs his pack (which of course contains a comprehensively equipped first aid kit) and trots over to where the other woman is sitting, leaving Danny to stare after him. He can’t believe the moment is over. It doesn’t seem remotely fair. He can still feel Steve’s hand on his face, feel his breath on his skin.

Danny stands up and gathers their things, cursing inwardly at all the people that hone in on Steve’s relentless capacity to help, even when he isn’t wearing a badge. But despite his annoyance, he knows something special just happened. The memory of sitting in the blazing sun with Steve, gazing into each other’s eyes like teenagers, isn’t one he’s going to forget anytime soon.

#Hawaii Five-0 #h50 #mcdanno #10.06 #episode coda #my fic

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andrewuttaro · 4 years

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Hypostatic Thoughts: Why Purgatory is RAD

When I was a Youth Minister I had to come up with a lot of “get to know you” games. They are part of the everyday life of ministry: you find icebreakers and games to get youth comfortable with sharing and eventually learning and forging a relationship with Jesus. One of these icebreaker questions I remember vividly was threefold: What is the craziest thing you’ve ever heard? What is the craziest thing you’ve ever done? What is the craziest thing you believe? I don’t recall my responses to the first two questions, but I remember that icebreaker went before the lesson on the Eucharist and Communion because the Catholic teachings on those are something crazy by most other Christians’ standards.

I do remember my response to the third question: What is the craziest thing you believe? I remember sitting in my office and giving it a good long think. I landed on purgatory. The teaching of Purgatory is canon within Catholic teaching, so I spoke about it for a little bit that day. I’m certain there was a lesson on the Last Things as well and in the Catholic Church no discussion of Heaven and Hell is complete without a part of Purgatory. It’s a sneaky fun topic to talk about. No Catholic teaching is falling out of popular favor quicker than purgatory except maybe celibate priesthood but that is a discussion that deserves a blog post to itself.

I do believe that Purgatory is very important. In fact, I think it’s crazy to believe in the Christian God without a belief in Purgatory. There is a very sharp criticism of Christian faith that is rarely talked about. Why would an all-loving, all-knowing, all-powerful God subject his son to crucifixion? Why would a God who claims to be all-loving subject anyone who dies disbelieving in him to eternal damnation and suffering? That God couldn’t possibly be a good God. That God is evil actually. The crucifixion point is a little bit more complex but the traditional Christian retort of “to save our souls” isn’t much of an explanation. This is essentially the Problem of Evil question. To be very clear every Christian denomination believes God is good and that God is just too far beyond the comprehension of human minds to truly understand any of this, but the question remains: How can the God of Christianity be good? My answer: purgatory.

The Catholic Church has maintained an explicit teaching on purgatory since about the tenth century AD. While there are biblical moorings for the teaching, like we discussed in the last Hypostatic Thoughts blog way back in August (The Kingdom Christians don’t want), this one is more implied. Without getting too bogged down in theology, the very acute intellectual flaw in Christianity we just described in the problem of evil is in part taken care of via purgatory. In a way… God doesn’t send anyone to Hell. He doesn’t really send anyone anywhere in terms of the afterlife. The thing about an ever-loving God is that he’s personal. He wants to be with you. After we die, God wants us to be with him. It’s very clarifying to think about the Christian afterlife this way: there isn’t places you go so much as degrees of distance from God.

Before going any further with this let’s talk about the first reason Purgatory is Rad: because of God! Who is God? This question is immense but for the sake of this blog post let’s keep it on point: God is the being whom no greater being can be thought of. Imagine what you think God is: he’s bigger and better than that. That is literally the canon teaching on God. He’s too beyond incredible to comprehend. God is literally too wonderful to be comprehended across Christian theology. That’s why it’s so incredible he’s loving and wants to be with us according to the way the Christian myth is built (when I say myth I’m using the theological usage of the word, not the meaning fake or not real). Once again though, that is another blog for another day. So if God is this wonderful being too great for our minds to comprehend why wouldn’t we want to be with him? Give it a totally non-religious thought for a minute: after you die wouldn’t you want to go to the greatest being in existence? Mind you: this being by such a nature would be the answer to every question and fulfillment of every desire. He’s so wicked rad that to think you want to go anywhere else is kind of missing the point of who he is.

Purgatory, like most religions with one God for that matter, doesn’t work at all if God isn’t a worthy goal. So if God is the worthy goal for us than life can be thought of as getting ready to go be with him. In the parlance of sports, life is training camp. To stick with the sports metaphor: in the teaching of purgatory, purgatory is a practice during the regular season or playoffs. It’s getting ready to be with God after you’ve already entered game-time. This is the second reason Purgatory is rad: you’re not in a gray, limbo zone when you’re there; you’re there training to be… you! That sounds egotistical and millennial AF but in the understanding of who-God-is that we’re working under, God is, in the very being of who he is, the fulfillment of ourselves, the complete satisfaction of our being. In sappy romantic comedy terms: He completes us. We are most ourselves when we’re with God. Getting to heaven to be with God then is like winning the Stanley Cup or the Superbowl to go back to the sports metaphor. Just like winning a championship or an Olympic Gold is the fulfillment of what being an athlete is, so too is getting to heaven the fulfillment of being human. Purgatory is the training ground that gets us to victory circle.

That second reason is A LOT so let’s talk about that some more. If God is the fulfillment of everything we were made to be, and purgatory is more training for that fulfillment, than God is good because he gives us every opportunity to be with him as we need to be. Heaven is the completion of Purgatory in a way, in other words a stop on the way to heaven. So if God doesn’t send people to Hell and purgatory is God giving us every chance possible to be with him than who is in Hell if anyone? That’s a great question that is somewhat contentious in contemporary Christianity. Some thinkers these days will tell you Hell simply doesn’t exist. I’ll tell you personally I don’t know if anyone is there, but I think Hell needs to exist just like Heaven and Purgatory if you believe in the Christian God. There has to be a place for people who just don’t want to. People who may know all this stuff about God but just say no thanks, nonetheless. The third reason purgatory is rad sheds some light on this: Heaven, Purgatory and Hell aren’t exactly what you think they are.

Purgatory is very metal. If you’re into punk rock culture in anyway I don’t see how purgatory isn’t the embodiment of how you feel. The most punk thing about it is the third reason its rad AF: you don’t have to exit one way. In the Christian faith there is free will at every turn. That sentence may sound insane if you’ve ever been annoyed to be dragged to a Church event or join in an awkward blessing before a meal but it’s very much true. Jesus implores us to join him but never forces anyone into his friendship. Yes, Free Will is crucial here and with that in mind it’s time to go really deep. Remember the problem of evil we talked about at the beginning of this article? We can look at people and see victims of circumstance, but it’s also impossible to say real evil doesn’t exist. Evil does exist. But it really only exists as a deprivation. It’s the lack of a thing more than its actually a thing. Evil is a lack thereof, not something unto itself.

If you don’t want to be with God you really don’t have to be. While Hell is often imagined as torturous inferno its better understood as freezing cold. It’s a distance from the warmth of a relationship with God. The Devil himself is imagined in the classic Dante’s inferno as frozen into a lake with his arms crossed in resolve. He made his decision. He wants to be there. Nobody is evil because they’re born that way, people are evil because they lack something whether that be patience, hope, self-love or plain old empathy. That may sound like a pivot back to victimhood but again, it’s very intentional. No one is in Hell who doesn’t want to be there. Let me say that again: nobody is in hell who doesn’t want to be there. Just like the Devil some of us choose in spite of perhaps even the distant sight of the all-wonderful God, to move away from such a being. There is choice in the afterlife too in the Christian world. This is why all of Christian faith is built around redemption. God wants us to make the choice! He gave us Free Will from the literal day one. It’s our choice.

That’s the third and final reason Purgatory is Rad in your humble blogger’s opinion. Purgatory is the most jarring reason the Christian God is good and free will exists. We are given every opportunity to exercise our free will for the purpose of going where we want to go. The evil in our lives that may hold us back from exercising our free will is a deprivation of something else at the absolute worst. Purgatory maybe a pretty wild thing to believe in, even if you consider yourself Christian; but its also pretty essential if you want to believe your God is good.

Thanks for Reading.

#Religion #blog #purgatory #catholic #christian blog #christian #faith

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kleeboy · 5 years

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okay im deleting and reposting this because i put a swear word in the tags and it wasnt even showing up in searches for my personal, and i don’t trust the mobile editor to fix my problems but its time 4 me to make a post

Here's what I’ve got for a Thunderbirds D&D AU! I'm not gonna get into numbers and stats and levels because I do that enough when I play normal d&d and I'm gay and tired. Also, there’s probably gonna be a touch of rule bending not only to reconcile d&d with the Thunderbirds canon but just to boost the fun factor a bit. It’s not like we’re setting up a playable campaign so it doesn’t really matter as long as we’re not making it unrecognisable as part of the d&dverse. At that point, you might as well just call it a fantasy AU (still lit tho lmao). This is mostly TOS based but I’ll add some notes on TAG stuff now and then in italics because I’m here to provide. It’s hefty, so everything's under the cut. Hopefully comprehensible.

IR (presumably going by some other name but we’ll just stick with that for sake of ease) is still a rescue organisation - it operates on a somewhat smaller scale but access to magic means it’s got a pretty big reach for typical d&d technology. It’s centred around an ancient deity that few people have heard of and even fewer worship. There’s only one known temple dedicated to said deity and it had been abandoned for a long time before they found it, so it’s currently being restored - if rather agonizingly slowly. Anyway, IR is deity-based because nothing screams “fight for a cause” like paladins! They’re paladins, mostly, is what I’m saying.

Jeff is likely an ex-adventurer, probably a paladin but I’m seriously considering cleric just for interest’s sake so sue me, I love clerics. His party did some pretty cool stuff back in the day, and adventuring pays well as long as you don’t die, so he’s pretty well off. He left the party and settled down in one place when Scott was born, and the rest of them presumably disbanded and went about their own lives eventually. Or maybe they’re still out there causing a ruckus. Who knows. Pretty easy to just say “and he’s not there anymore” for TAG, rationalise his disappearance as you please. Either way, at some point he decided to start an organisation that would make saving lives a bit more structured than the usual “Let's hope a squad of adventurers stumbles on our predicament” that people have been relying on.

Scott is a Battle Master archetype fighter who multiclassed into paladin. Battle Master provides the most appropriate mechanics for a field leader, and also seems like the sort of thing Scott would have been doing previous to IR. He’s the least proficient spellcaster of the group if only by virtue of his class, but access to paladin magic gives his fighting an extra kick which, along with the Battle Master maneuvers, makes him pretty damn dangerous with a sword. It also means he can cast Find Steed, and because said steed’s form can go beyond normal when permitted by the DM and we’re making the rules here I’m giving him a pegasus, which is about the fastest flying mount you could get as far as the monster manual goes. A roc would just be too much. Very VERY cool. But too much.

Virgil is a College of Lore bard into paladin. When it comes to support classes, nothing beats a College of Lore bard for versatility. He’s got the range, darling. Slap an arsenal of magic items on that and you’re well on your way to the d&d equivalent of Thunderbird 2. He has some good offensive spells and weapon training but mostly works to keep others from getting hurt. With a high constitution, the Tough feat, good armour and a shield he pretty much becomes a mobile wall to be put between danger and anyone who can’t take too many hits. Find Steed again lets me give him something interesting to ride, and what better than an owlbear. A big one. Not quite as appropriate stat-wise as the pegasus for Scott but when it comes to aesthetics I’m yet to find something as good as a bear-shaped and -sized owl.

John is predominantly a Divination wizard, with a low paladin level - two maximum - giving him access to a lot of powerful magic but leaving him, how do you say, squishy. Divination is gameplay-wise pretty underwhelming, with not many spells to its name, but for someone whose job is centred around keeping an eye on things, the ability to see very far away and receive premonitions is gonna be useful. The system by which distress calls are sent is giving me some concept trouble but when it comes to receiving it’s as easy as a focus with some capability to project images and sound, gear already necessary to cast Scrying. So, as in canon, rather than going out on missions (at least for the most part), it’s John’s job to keep tabs on incoming signals and active operations. This is all based in the previously mentioned temple - out of the way enough to let me call it a T5 equivalent. He also has the secondary job of making sure nothing else tries to take up residence in the decrepit building. They had to clear it of goblins the first time. As far as Eos goes I don’t have room for all my thoughts (so many) but let’s call her a sentient magic item. Additionally, TAG John probs gets a level or two in cleric.

Gordon is a paladin into druid, Circle of the Land (Coast). He and Alan didn't have any previous class levels before becoming paladins. Neither of his classes give any bonuses for it beyond proficiency for paladins but nobody can stop me from making his primary weapon a longbow, plus the Sharpshooter feat is helpful. Coast druid is the only subclass of any d&d class that has a specific focus on water and what could go wrong if we let him turn into animals? It also has some good circle spells, when he gets to that point. He’d probably have a lot of fun with Mirror Image. There was probably an incident that catalysed his becoming a druid, I'd like to think it's the equivalent of the boat crash just placed on a different point in the timeline. Might get into it at a later date.

Alan is just pure paladin, it's all he's really had time to do with his life so far beyond being a kid and growing up, y'know? I’ll get a little into the subclass here, all of IR’s 3rd level or higher paladins take Oath of Devotion. From the PHB: “These paladins meet the ideal of the knight in shining armor, acting with honor in pursuit of justice and the greater good.” Devotion’s core tenets are honesty, courage, compassion, honor, and duty. Also their Channel Divinity: Sacred Weapon is just really cool. Who doesn’t like glowing stuff, man. Alan's got some more powerful paladin abilities than any of his brothers but probably has the lowest total level regardless. Giving him the Athlete feat, which lets him jump and climb a lot easier, feels appropriate. He snuck a griffon home when it was a baby, and is trying to train it. It's not very well behaved and causes a ruckus when it gets bored but he adores it. One day it’ll make a phenomenal companion. For now, it will continue to attempt to eat his fingers.

Brains is an artificer! Love that class. Artificers, rather than casting spells (though they can do that), make magic items. The artificer class is from Unearthed Arcana and a lot of the mechanics can be hit or miss, it’s been revised many times by lots of different people. But when it comes to the basic idea, it’s the obvious choice for Brains. The less common a magic item, the longer it takes and harder it is to make. The higher level an artificer the more, and more powerful, their creations are. Pretty simple. Also pretty much every version of artificer you come across has some sort of option for a mechanical companion so there’s MAX for you.

Tin-Tin is also an artificer, with a few levels in paladin for good measure. Her time is split between making and repairing gear and going out on missions, and when on call is incredibly useful for lightning fixes and is incredibly creative when it comes to the ways magic items (and nonmagic items) can be used to get out of predicaments. This is the character who constantly has Inspiration. Kayo is an Assassin archetype rogue into paladin. Assassins do… a lot of damage. If you know much about d&d rules (I don’t expect you to), the only thing scarier than a bard, stat wise, is a rogue. +10 to stealth is pretty easy to get by 5th level, combine that with Sneak Attack and Assassinate and you can deal up to 26 damage in one hit with a dagger alone. I said I wouldn’t do any maths but I lied.

Penny doesn’t necessarily have any class levels, though rogue would be appropriate. She falls more under the NPC umbrella, somewhere between Noble and Spy, perhaps? NPCs have a lot less restrictions when it comes to what they can and can’t do laterally, but it’s harder to make them powerful without assigning a class. I also think it’d be really neat to use the fantasy setting to make her nonhuman. High elf would be fitting and cool, but she’d also make a fantastic tiefling. Though, like, call me biased, everyone would make a fantastic tiefling.

I think that’s all I’ve got to say on the matter right now. I have a lot more specific details that I’ll get to eventually but this post is more of a jumping off point listing some options for anyone else who might want to mess around with a d&d AU but doesn’t know where to start. Pick out things you like, ditch things you don’t, add whatever sounds cool, and honestly? Congratulations on getting through this whole thing. This post is kind of in shambles. And thanks! I love taking any excuse to pore over these books.

Shoot me an ask or something if anything’s too incomprehensible or there’s something up with the formatting. Later, skaters.

#thunderbirds #thunderbirds are go #dungeons and dragons #long post #kleeboy talk #no commentary in here because last time i said the f word and got put in the naughty corner

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